The X Effect
by TheBalloonTurtle
Summary: Kurt Hummel's life is a mess of slushies and locker slams until he discovers that he is something that will change his life forever. Kurt enrols in the School for Mutants, happy to find a sanctuary and even happier to find a friend in the dashing Blaine Anderson, resident mutant heartthrob. Klaine X-Men AU
1. Chapter 1

It hit him like… well, like a half-solid, half-liquid wall of freezing cold red.

Kurt could hear their cackles as they disappear down the hall. Slowly, he lifted his hands to wipe the icy sludge away. His eyes stung a little from the dye but that was nothing compared to the pressure-like pain pulsing in his head.

_Ugh, brain freeze_, Kurt thought, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to push away the pain. _What is it you're supposed to do? Push your tongue to the roof of your mouth?_ But that was for the other kind of brain freeze, the one that didn't involve taking a slushie to the face.

It was in his hair, on his face and clothes and a sliver of ice was caught in his ear. As he grabbed the last books from his locker and threw them into his bag, he could feel something slide out of his hair and down the back of his shirt collar. His shoulders tensed, hitching up around his neck and the muscles in his back clenched as he braces the cold semi-liquid slid down his back at a torturously slow pace. He shook out his head, trying to regain control of his body temperature but all he achieved is the raining down of little red droplets on the linoleum floor of the corridor.

Kurt made his way out, glad he had stayed behind in the choir room to practise his song for tomorrow because it meant the parking lot is next to empty. He slid into his car, careful not to lean on the seat. His clothes were ruined, he didn't want to have to worry about the upholstery too. He eased off his jacket, careful not to shed any of the still unmelted ice.

Kurt drove home, taking care not to stare at the jacket on his passenger seat, or the red marks that were already beginning to stain. Tears threatened him but he pushed them back. _It's just a reaction from the dye,_ he thought in a failing effort to convince himself.

The shop was open late on Thursdays so his dad wouldn't be home for a while. Kurt took the jacket and went down to his basement bedroom, mournfully grabbing the pre-treatment cleaning supplies from under the sink as he passed the kitchen. It was only a minute or two after he begins to inspect the damage before he realised the jacket was unsalvageable. He dropped it to the ground in a heap, because who needed to worry about wrinkles on ruined jacket?

Kurt showered, scrubbing hard to get the artificial gunk out of his hair and off his skin. When he got out, he could still feel the ghost of the sticky drink on him, haunting him with the reminder that this will happen again, just like it has before. He unclenched his jaw when he noticed he had been all but crushing his teeth together in frustration. He hated this, hated how this made him feel, how they could do this so often and get away with it so easily. A slow burning anger started to seep through him, he could feel it burning up in him like fire...

But maybe that was just his body circulating the heat from the shower around him.

In his room he saw the jacket. It was an ivory cream, tailored, double breasted jacket, with ornamented buttons and matching belt. In its crumpled state Kurt could see the red that blossomed across it, like a blush on pale skin. At that very moment, he despised it. He stalked over to it, snatching it up from where it lay.

"I hate you!" Kurt yelled at it, shaking the jacket. He was angry again, frustration and pain merging together, sending a raging heat coursing through him. "I hate you! I hate it! All of it! All of _them_! It's not fair!" He had never been this angry before, it was buzzing through him. There was a tingly feeling in his arms and legs and his hands felt like they have red hot pins and needles. "Why do you get to do this? Why do you get to torture people's lives every day and get away scot free! It's not fair! It's not! It's not, it's not, it's not, it's not, it's _not_!"

Something bright and white hot flared up in from of him suddenly. His left hand, the one not holding the jacket, shot up to shield his eyes. His right hand felt abnormally hot, like it should have been painful but it just wasn't. Slowly, Kurt lowered his arm.

There, in his hand, was his jacket... or at least what was left of it. All around his fingers was charred fabric. He stared at it, mouth gaping, watching the tiny licks of flame that hang like a barrier between the good, undamaged material and the charcoal black waste. Kurt shook his jacket to put out the flames. Something in the back of his mind told him that that would only fan the fire and make it worse but they just disappeared, as though without protest.

Kurt's eyes traveled to his hand, the one holding the jacket. He could still feel the burning pins and needles on his skin but it wasn't painful.

Realisation hit him like a slushie to the face.

Kurt flung the jacket away from him with an undignified, "_AARGH!_" and stumbled back against a wall. He felt his back collide with it at the same time his knees buckled and he slid down ungracefully. His chest was rising and falling too hard and too fast and he could feel it seem to shake with the force of his heartbeat. His pulse was everywhere - his neck, his head, his hands, he could even hear it in his ears. His mouth formed and reformed around one word, nothing coming out but unintelligible whispers until-

"M-mutant."

Kurt stared at his hand, not sure exactly what he wanted it do. Did he want it to spout fire and deem him a freak for the rest of his life? Or did he want it to be a figment of his imagination and go back to being a lonely, bullied, gay boy in Ohio? Jackets could spontaneously combust, right? I mean, sure, it wasn't all that warm and there wasn't enough static electricity in the air to cause a spark and his jacket wasn't exactly dry thanks to all the slushie but still there is... maybe... _possibly_ a chance this could have happened?

Kurt's hand looked completely normal, though it felt a little unnaturally warm. He focused all his concentration on it, staring at his palm, willing it to ignite. "Come on, come on," he chanted in desperation, "just _light!_"

With his last word, he gave his hand a little shake and then there, floating on his hand, was a tiny flame. It blossomed up from his palm like a little flower, orange-red and dancing. Kurt stared at it, couldn't take his eyes off it. It was terrifying and mesmerising all at the same time, like a terrible beauty. He gace his hand another shake and the flame vanished, no evidence to say it had been there at all.

"Whoa," Kurt breathed, his heart rate had calmed down when he saw the fire, it was almost soothing to him, but now the flame was gone he's becoming anxious again. "I'm... I'm a mutant. I'm a... a..."

If he wasn't already sitting, his legs would have given out from under him again. He stared back at him palm, giving it a shake to spurt a lick of flame and then another to make it vanish, repeating this over and over. He kept the flame in his hand once, rolling it around, letting it dance over and tickle his fingers. He was grinning despite himself, somehow elated by this tiny flame.

He became adventurous, as Kurt Hummel does, and bounced it in his hand once or twice. When he started getting more confident, he tossed it up and over, catching it in his other hand. He did it again and again, watching the tail of the fire as it moves, like the tail of a comet.

His phone buzzed by the bed and the flame fell from his hand and Kurt's broken concentration meant it disappeared before it reaches the ground. He watched the spot for a moment, before pushing himself up and walking to the bedside table.

It was just a text from Rachel, asking how his song practise had gone earlier. He sent back a short reply, hoping she would read it as he didn't want to talk. He was itching to get back to playing with his newfound talent but a look at the time told him his dad will be home soon. A little disappointed, he trudged up stairs to make dinner but froze as he reaches the top step.

What would he say to his father? Could he tell him? _Would_ he tell him? And what would he say if he did? Sure, Burt was an understanding man, he had been when Kurt had told him he was gay, but this was different. This was mutant. Where gays were avoided, mutants were completely outcast in Ohio. Kurt could feel his stomach churn, but he did his best to push it aside.

Dinner was a hassle. Four times Kurt sprout spontaneous fire without meaning to and he almost burnt the chicken twice because of it. When the food was made, he left without eating any, scurrying back to his room. He hid under the covers until he heard his dad's truck rumble to a stop and then a moment later the front door opened and his father's familiar footsteps moved across the house. The door to his room opened and Burt's voice filled the room.

"Dinner looks great, Kurt," he said and Kurt could hear the smile. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No," he called back, burying himself deeper into his comforter cocoon. His dad knew him so well, what if he noticed something different about him?

"Well, come on! We'll eat together!"

"I can't, Dad, I feel sick." It wasn't even that much of a lie. His stomach was squirming at the thought of what his father's reaction may be.

"You okay, kid?" he said, in his gentle giant's voice. He took a step or two down the stairs but Kurt stoped him.

"No, no! Don't come down here," he insisted, barely emerging from the sheets. "I-I think I might be contagious. I don't want you getting sick."

"Kurt, I'm your dad, it's my job to-"

"I know, I know, but please," he pleaded, "I think I just need some sleep."

His dad was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out if Kurt was playing the hero or if he just genuinely needed some rest. When he spoke, his voice was annoyed but still caring.

"Okay, you just- just call me if you need anything, alright?" he grumbled. "Promise, Kurt?"

"I promise, Dad."

Burt came back in the morning and Kurt told him he still wasn't well. He can't go to school, what would happen if he lit up in front of everyone? His dad let him stay home and turned from his place at the top of the stairs - Kurt still wouldn't let him come down - to disappear back into the house.

Half an hour later, just before he left for work, he quietly cracked the door open and whispered, "Kurt?" He pretended to be asleep and a second later his heard his dad try to shuffle quietly down the stairs. Something was placed on his bedside table and he felt a hand brush against his hair.

"You know, kid," his dad said quietly, obviously not intended to be heard by his 'sleeping' son, "you spend all your time looking after me, but it's okay to be cared for once and a while. I'm always open for the job! I am always going to love you, sick or not, and there is very little that can be done to change that."

He left then, bumbling up the stairs in his very Burt way. Kurt opened his eyes, staring at the glass of water and the plate of crackers his father had left.

"Oh, dad," he whispers, "I've become the one thing that probably will make you stop loving me." He buries his head into the pillows and feels the tears spill over.

He didn't stay in bed long for two reasons: one, he couldn't deny the urge to play with fire again and two, he was determined to get this thing under control. He didn't want to burden his dad with this, and he was too scared to think about what would actually happen if he knew. He wasn't sure where to start but he tried mainly to just control when he ignites.

It was harder than yesterday. He was so full of emotion then, anger at the bullies and then excitement when he discovered the truth. Now though, the feeling was dulled by the reminder that this was abnormal and wrong. The first few times he tried, nothing happened and he almost gave up. But then he imagined what his father's face would look like if this happens accidentally and it spurred him on.

By the time he had to go get dinner ready, Kurt had pretty much complete control over starting the flames, and when he didn't, he could recognise the tell-tale heat building up in his hands and try to weaken it so he can disperse it without it being noticeable.

He hid in his room again, sitting on the bed until he heard his dad come home. Footsteps bypassed the kitchen and headed straight for Kurt's door. He didn't bother trying to come down this time, just stood on the top step.

"You going to come up for dinner today?" his dad asked and Kurt shook his head, giving the same 'contagious' excuse. Burt sighed but shrugged. "Okay, but you have to make up for missing Friday night dinner."

"I'll have dinner with you tomorrow, dad," Kurt promised and he smiled, turning to leave. "Dad?" Burt stopped, twisting slightly to see his son. "Thanks for the crackers and the water."

"Anytime, kid," he grinned.

Kurt watched the spot he vanished through and sighed, leaning back on his bed. His phone buzzed with a message from Tina, concerned about where he was today. It hit him that no one is going to want to have anything to do with him once this gets out. No matter how talented Kurt is, even he wasn't capable for hiding something like this for long. Maybe if he could last until the end of the year, he could save up the money from working in his dad's shop and leave at the end of the summer, or before that if he has enough to get by. He could run to New York, find a way to live in peace. The loneliness starts to set in on him and he knew that this was the beginning of change, and this change mightn't be for the better.

He got up, dropping his phone on the bed and climbed the stairs. His dad was in the living room now, watching some football game on the TV and Kurt watched him for a minute before walking over to sit beside him on the couch.

"Hey, kiddo, you want to watch something?" he asked, offering him the remote but Kurt just shook his head, curling his legs up underneath him. He leant forward, resting his head on his dad's chest and he could feel him chuckle underneath him. "Whoa, Kurt, what happened to being contagious?"

"I think your immune system can handle it for one night," Kurt retorted, smiling when he feels his dad's arm wrap around him. They sat in silence other than for the commentator's reports on the TV and Kurt felt all the stress leave him as he watched the tiny athletes on the screen.

"I don't think we've done anything like this since you were seven or eight," Burt hummed and Kurt smiled at the vibration of his chest as he talked. He gave Kurt a squeeze. "It's nice."

"Thanks, Dad," he whispered, not daring to move.

"For what?"

"For always being there for me, even when I didn't ask you to be. It's nice to have someone to care for you." There was kiss to the top of his head and his father hummed an "Always, kiddo," as he rubbed his arm.

Kurt didn't respond. He just wanted to be able to experience this one last time. He didn't know when this thing was going to turn his life upside down but it was in no doubt inevitable. He just wanted to hold on to this feeling, of being loved and cared for, for as long as he can before it had to be ripped away from him.

Monday morning, Kurt got up early to make them both breakfast. _I can do this, _he thought, flipping the omelette. _Everything is going to be fine. I can control this, I know I can. I've practised. I have to do this. For Dad._

And he did. He kissed his dad on the cheek and left for school and everything was… normal. And very _not _mutant.

Kurt made it two months without any incident - other than that time when he almost burned Rachel Berry's face off for stealing his solo _again_ - and he was quite proud. It was hard at the start, with the constant being knocked into walls and the occasional slushie facial. There were scorch marks on the inside of his locker that he would probably be asked to explain at some point but for now he had them covered with a Wicked musical poster.

As scared as he was that someone will find out, Kurt loved what he can do. He practised at home, going from the tiny sparks on his palm to holding a tennis ball size fire between his hands. He didn't have a lot of space in his room though, so his practice was limited. He didn't dare try anything big in the rest of the house.

He was studying one night at his desk, his world history book open in front of him, snapping his fingers to make a small flame and snapping them again to make it disappear. One snap for each fact and the flame was getting a little bit bigger each time.

_Snap._ A flame appeared. _Snap._ The flame was gone. _Snap._ World War Two lasted from 1st September 1939 until 2nd September 1945. _Snap._ The Nazis murdered approximately 12 million people. _Snap._ Pearl Harbor was bombed on 7 December 1941. _Snap._ America officially declared war on 8 December 1941. _Snap._ The Invasion of Normandy on D-Day took place on the 6th of June-

"Kurt?"

Kurt turned to look at his dad standing at the bottom of the stairs but he wasn't looking back, at least not directly. There was an odd look on his face and Kurt followed his gaze down to his own hand-

-where a three inch long, gold-yellow flame danced up from his fingers.

Instantly, he gave his hand a shake, extinguishing the flame but it was too late. His father knew.

"Kurt, what the hell-" he began but his voice gets lost in his throat. Kurt got up slowly from his desk chair. He could read his father's face like a book as emotion after emotion passed over it, not one of them favourable to Kurt. They didn't say anything, and Kurt could feel himself drowning in the silence. It was terrifying, overwhelming and suffocating.

"Dad?"

His voice was so quiet but it seemed amplified in the silence. His own breathing was erratic and his hands were shaking. He clenched them tight to stop them but as he squeezed he could feel the steady heat building up until he let go, only to repeat the process. He felt so lost, he just wanted his dad to take his hand, hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright.

But he wasn't going to. Kurt could see that. Burt's jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed and when Kurt looks in them he fely as though he would be seeing his dinner again very soon because of what was hidden there.

_Fear_

"Dad? Dad, please. Please, say something."

He didn't, just stared. His own hands clenched and unclenched, just as Kurt's were doing, though obviously not for the same reason. His stomach gave another twist.

Using all the courage he had left, he took a step towards his dad, but froze when he saw him flinch automatically.

"Dad, please, you have to understand!" He could feel the tears already starting to swell in his eyes and tried to keep them in. "Please! I didn't ask for this! I don't-"

"Kurt, stop."

Kurt's mouth dried up. His father's voice was strained, forced and measured. He had looked away from him, to a point a little left and down from Kurt's face. _He's so repulsed by me he can't even LOOK at me!_

"I think you should go to bed, Kurt," his father sais finally, his voice hoarse, still training his eyes on that unimportant spot. "We'll deal with this in the morning."

He turned to leave and Kurt surged forward. "Dad! Dad, I-" He was only a foot away when his father turned and he could see his face in detail. It was tired and sad, though there was still that element of fear in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was stern and formal and so unlike his usual self.

"Go to bed, Kurt," he repeated and then he was gone.

Kurt was alone. Totally alone. The one person who he had counted on to look after him and be there for him was too terrified and disgusted to be in the same room as him. He felt his resolve collapse, the foundations he had been standing on crumbled away and he was left with nothing. His breathing was shaking, getting caught in his throat rather painfully, causing him to hiccup. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his chest hurt. He took an unconscious step back, then another, until he felt his legs give out. He slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was crouched on the ground, staring at the side of his bookshelf. Tears streamed down his face as he heaves and hiccups and he just wished he could leave. Leave this, leave his body, fall into a deep sleep or a coma and never wake up. He just wanted to never have to feel this way again.

But most of all, he just wanted his father back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so the response I got to this was _overwhelming_ to say the least so here you go! I'll post up the next chapter tomorrow and then if I can get it done on time, the fourth on Monday or Tuesday. **

**But thank you so much! Really! It meant the world that you all liked it! I'll respond to all of your reviews later but thank you so so much!  
**

* * *

Kurt wasn't sure when he stopped crying, he only noticed his cheeks had dried and he wasn't hiccupping anymore. He sat there, unable to move or even fall asleep. His mind seemed to be on autopilot, moving numbly through his thoughts. That was just how he felt, numb. Occasionally, he tripped over a thought that he maybe should have made him cry, and probably would have, if he hadn't been so utterly exhausted.

He didn't know how long he sat there or when exactly he fell asleep but he did know he woke up to an annoying buzzing sound. He sat for a while; in the same crouched position he had fallen into last night, trying to distinguish the noise.

It hit him suddenly and he wondered why he hadn't recognised his alarm before. Kurt moved and could feel the ache of his body limit him. He ended up crawling over to the bedside table, pulling down his buzzing phone and switching off the pre-set alarm. He sat there for a while, trying to figure out what to do.

_I have to get up. I have to go to school. I can't let this... THING I can do control my life. I have to show them that I can be mutant AND I can be normal._

He absent mindedly pulled himself up, not really realising he'd done it until his could feel the stretch of the muscles as he stands. There was a creak in his neck from his sleeping position but he merely rolled his head around and ignored it.

Kurt was dressed and making his way upstairs in record time, probably because he hadn't paid attention to the clothes he picked, just opened the wardrobe and grabbed. He made his way to the kitchen, not even thinking, just being, but when he walked into the kitchen he frozes.

His father was there, tired with bags under his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. It was a moment before he noticed Kurt and his brow creased.

"Kurt, you're up early." His eyes washed over him, taking him all in. Kurt didn't move.

"I always get up this early," he said. The crease deepened for a second and suddenly Burt's eyes were wide with fear.

"Kurt, you're can't be- you're not going to _school_ are you?" Kurt shrugged and his father shook his head, in denial or disbelief, Kurt doesn't know. "No. No, no, no, Kurt, it's too _dangerous_."

"This isn't the first time I've gone to school with this, Dad," Kurt spat, unable to keep the venom from his voice. "I've learned to control it, everyone else is fine!"

"It's not the other kids I'm worried about!" his father admitted and Kurt stilled again, staring at him. Burt scratched the back of his neck before taking a deep breath and walking over to his son. Without any hesitation, he placed both his hands on Kurt's shoulders. Kurt flinched away at first, afraid he was going to hurt him, but when he spoke, his father's voice was gentle.

"Kurt, I'm sorry about last night, it just took me by surprise. I shouldn't have acted the way I did, and I'm truly sorry. I should have acted like a father. With the whole gay thing, I kind of had a... a sort of... _pre-warning_, I guess you could say, and I had time to adjust. This was just new, and you know me when it comes to something new." He sighed, gave Kurt's shoulder a squeeze and looked him right in the eye. "I never meant to make you feel as though you were wrong or disgusting or anything I may have made you feel. You are my son. And I love you no matter what. Gay or not gay, mutant or not mutant."

Kurt threw his arms around him, holding on tight. His dad chuckled and squeezed back. "I mean it, kid," he hummed. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad," Kurt said, pulling away, but still keeping his hands on his father's shoulders. He smiled at his father, who returned it for a moment before his face turned serious.

"I still don't want you going to school though," he said, the crease in his forehead as deep as before. "People aren't going to be happy with you. Being gay was bad enough - I almost wanted to pull you out then - but this on top of it..."

"I'll be fine, Dad, really," he assured him, kissing his cheek and pulling away completely. "I've been doing this for a little while now, I've got it covered."

"I don't know..."

Kurt went to the cooker, pulling a pot out from the cupboard beside it. "Dad, I promise you, I will be fine. Now, how about I make us omelettes for breakfast?"

"Okay... Okay, fine. But Kurt, I'm counting in you to tell me the _moment_ is starts to get rough and not a second later, understand?"

Kurt put down the egg he was holding and walked to his dad. He wrapped his arms around him again. He was so glad he was here, on his side. He could forgive him - had forgiven him - for his little slip up because it meant that he didn't have to do this alone. He didn't care what the rest of the world thought as long as it meant his father was always there to hug him like he was now.

"I promise, Dad."

Winter brought the cold. To Kurt, this meant scarves, scarves and more scarves. Not that he needed them anymore, his body temperature remained constantly toasty all the time thanks to his little gift. But still, they were nice to wear, and it would look suspicious if he suddenly had an aversion to them, he was Kurt Hummel after all.

He practiced every day, although mostly in his bedroom and never when his dad was around. Burt was okay with his son being a mutant but he still flinched a little when Kurt absently ignites his fingers. There was one time when the power went out and Burt offered Kurt the wick of a candle with a smile when he couldn't find matches. Kurt appreciated his effort to make him feel like he was still an important part in their family.

Everything changed the week they arrived back after the Christmas holidays. Kurt did his best to ignore him but Karofsky seemed to be making up for all the days he missed over the school break and was bullying Kurt with a shocking consistency. Most of the time Kurt would just cling to the wall whenever he was knocked into it to save himself from any more torment but today hadn't started out so well.

Rachel had informed him this morning that his solo and had been given to her - again - and that she was sorry but there was nothing either of them could do about it, (Kurt would see about _that!_). That put him in a foul mood but it was his speech and debate class just before lunch that really had him on edge.

The topic had been mutants. While Kurt usually was very opinionated in this class, he thought it best to sit this one out. Still, he listened, with growing disgust. There were the truly horrible people who were against mutants, claiming them to be disgusting and _wrong_. And then there were those who were on his side, but yet they talked as though a mutant was no more than an animal, their tones clearly saying "Yes, they should be treated equal but being normal is superior." Kurt bottled everything in, wanting to shout at them all for being inconsiderate and insensitive but knowing he couldn't. He left the class fuming, just wishing he could get to lunch, his hands clenching and unclenching in an attempt to cool the heat building in the palms of his hands.

There was a sharp pain in his left shoulder as it collided with the lockers and a dull throb in his right where Karofsky had knocked into him. Everything building inside of him snapped, like building supports buckling in and cascading down in a wave of rubble and rage. It bubbled up inside him, filling him and overtaking him until it was the only thing he knew.

"Hey!" His shout rang out across the hall but Karofsky had already turned off the corridor. His anger moved Kurt's feet forward, throwing the door to the locker room open so it crashed against the wall and swung closed again. Kurt's voice rang out in the room, empty other than Karofsky. "I am talking to you!"

"Girls locker room is next door," he said, pulling stuff from his locker. He sounded like he was talking to a six year old, unthreatened and bored.

"What is your problem!" Kurt barked at him. His hands were hot and shaking, whether it was from the fury coursing through his veins or from the fear that was menacingly close to taking the forefront of his emotions right now, he didn't know.

"Excuse me?"

"_What_ are you so scared of?"

"Besides you sneaking in here to peak at my junk?" The way he spoke, like he was so disgusted, was as if he was talking to the lowest of the low. A rapist or someone who preyed on young girls.

"Oh yeah! Every straight guy's nightmare!" Kurt spat, letting venom seep into to his words. "That all us gays are out to molest and convert you. Well guess what, ham hock! You're not my type!"

"That right?" Karofsky growled, taking an intimidating step forward.

"Yeah, I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be _bald_ by the time they're _thirty!_"

"Do not push me, Hummel," he said through gritted teeth, raising a fist.

"You gonna hit me?" He felt it then, the wave of fear ebbing up under the anger but it didn't stop him. The heat in his hands was building up, ready and waiting in defence. He was being reckless and stupid but god he didn't care at this point. "_Do it_."

He barely even registered the slam of the locker. "_Don't push me!_" Karofsky repeated.

"Hit me because it is not going to change who I am! You can't punch the gay out of me anymore than I can punch the ignoramus out of you." The gravity of that sentence weighed more than it appeared on the surface. It wasn't just this bully Kurt was talking to but all of them. It want just about being gay, it was about being different; gay, mutant or anything else that made them stand apart.

"_Get out of my face!_" The echoing voice bounced off the lockers but Kurt held his ground, rising like a crescendo until his words took on their own momentum.

"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't stand how _extraordinarily ordinary you are_-"

The wave crashed, his crescendo fell and suddenly Kurt was plummeting down to earth with a force stronger and more terrifying than gravity. Karofsky had grabbed him but not in the way he had expected. Kurt couldn't have seen this coming, no one could have.

Kurt's chest was tight, he couldn't breathe. Karofsky's mouth on his left a crushed feeling, the taste of his tongue, too big, too slimy and disgustingly _wrong!_ He could only stare in shock at him, at his bully.

Karofsky moved again, this time Kurt saw what was coming. His hands shot out, pushing against him. He just wanted him away, as far away as he could get. He vaguely registered Karofsky's yelp as he rocked backward. It wasn't until Karofsky's eyes drifted down to his chest, a shocked face that mirrored Kurt's own that he realised just how out of had this had become.

There, on the left breast of his letterman jacket, was a hand shaped scorch mark. A charred hand print burned through the fabric and even singed his dark t-shirt underneath.

He stared open mouthed at the mark, willing it to disappear under his stare. In his shock at Karofsky's kiss, he had lost all awareness of the heat in his hands, lost control and forgot to hold back. He glanced up to Karofsky, to the fear in his face. He knew. He knew the truth, about what Kurt was, just like how Kurt now knew his secret.

He grabbed his bag, stumbling in his rush to get as far away from Kurt a he could. He never took his eyes off Kurt. They told Kurt everything.

_You're a freak._

_A freak and a fag._

_You're as good as dead._

Kurt felt himself sink against the lockers, sliding down until he hit the ground. His mind was racing. His heart was racing. His entire body was on edge. It was screaming at him. A deafening yell of _run_. Everyone would know. There was no way Karofsky wouldn't tell. He had to go. Leave and get out and never come back.

He grabbed his bag, hands trembling and made for his car. Most people were in the cafeteria so although the halls weren't empty, there was no one to stop him and question him. He didn't care that he was skipping school. It wouldn't matter in the end as long as he made it home without incident.

His dad wasn't home when he arrived and he was grateful. He felt horrible and dirty and _wrong_. He striped and showered, scrubbing every inch of him three or four times. He washed his face until it was red raw – his cheeks were Karofsky had held him, his lips that felt as though the will never be right. He scrubbed and scrubbed until his frustration became too much and he sank to the tiled shower floor. He was hiccupping, probably crying but it was a little hard to tell in the running water. The uneasy feeling had crept beneath him, crawled under his skin. No matter how hard he tried, he didn't think he'd ever be able to feel _clean_.

The water ran cold long before he was shivering enough to get up and get out. He shut off the water and dragged himself to his room. Usually he could send a current of heat around his body to dry himself off in seconds but he's shivering too much, all the heat gone. A towel wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket, he fell on the bed and just lay there, no energy to move.

He didn't think he'd slept but he must have because the light in his room has changed when his mind started working again and he could hear his dad calling him. A voice in his head reminded him he had promised to make dinner because his dad was working late. He wanted to push himself up, needed to, but his body wouldn't respond.

"Kurt?"

His dad's voice washed over him, warm and caring, spurring life into his limbs. The heavy footfalls made their way down the stairs and when Burt's voice came again, it was laced with worry. "Kurt? Kurt, what is it? What's wrong?" His dad's face filled his vision. His brow was furrowed with worry and he stretched out a hand to Kurt's icy hair and god, Kurt didn't even realise he was still shivering.

"They know, Dad," Kurt croaked out. His voice was hoarse and his throat was scratchy from all the crying earlier and he was shivering in his damp and freezing towel. The crease in his dad was forehead deepened and he gave Kurt a questioning look as his fingers trail soothingly through the hair on the side of Kurt's head.

"They know about me," Kurt repeated and though is takes a second, realisation dawns on him. He pulled Kurt up and into his chest.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry," he said, rubbing circles into his back through his towel. Kurt curled into him, so warm and strong. He didn't say anything, neither of them did, and slowly Kurt's shivers began to ease.

"What happened?" Burt asked, his voice hard but Kurt can hear the protectiveness in there. He didn't want to tell him, didn't want to worry him but after a minute or two of silence, he took a deep, shuddering breath.

Staying curled against his father's chest, Kurt told him everything. About the song, about Speech and Debate, about the locker and about the kiss. He felt his father stiffen against him but he didn't quieten until he'd finished.

Burt continued to rub circles into his back until finally he said in a steady voice, "You're staying home. There is no way I'm letting my kid go to a place like that. I wish you had've told me about the bullying earlier but I'm glad you're telling me now."

"Dad, I-" Kurt began in a quiet voice but he was cut off.

"No, that's it. I'm not risking it," he said in a hard voice. He sighed and hugged Kurt close and said more gently, "I'm not risking you, Kurt."

He hugged him back, feeling lighter and more at ease. His skin was still crawling but he could ignore it if he tried. He was just so glad his father was as he was, he couldn't imagine being so lost without his dad's hand to guide him.

They sat for a while. Kurt's stomach growled and it seemed to jerk Burt into life. He left after making Kurt promised he would put some warm clothes on, brushing off his request to make them dinner like he had promised.

("Kurt, it's fine, really. You've had a hard day, you need some rest.")

He trudged upstairs, weary and tired, in sweatpants and a hoodie to find his dad browning the mince. Kurt went to the cupboard to get the jar of Bolognese sauce, knowing they were both too tired and hungry to make it the real way.

They ate in a comfortable silence. Neither moved when they had cleared their plates and instead just sat. Kurt pushed the last few strings of spaghetti around instead of getting up and going to bed like he knew he should. The last thing he wanted right now is to be on his own.

"What happens now?" he asked quietly. He wasn't really looking for an answer so he was surprised when his dad replied.

"Well, you can't go back to McKinley, that's for sure," he hummed and Kurt nodded. "But I did some research and I think I have a list of places where mutants can live in-"

"You did research?" Kurt asked, straightening as he looked at his father. Burt shrugged sheepishly. "When!"

"That first night, after I saw you downstairs with the..." he said, motioning to Kurt's hand. "The flame thing... On your fingers." Kurt stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He had never thought, never realised how much his father cared. He couldn't help but begin to smile as a pleasant warmth spread through him at his gesture. Burt beat him to punch before he could say anything. "Come on, Kurt, what kind of father would I be if I didn't find out the facts? Figure out what's going on? I stayed up pretty much that entire night on the internet."

"You actually did that?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice and his dad shrugged again.

"You're my son," he reminded Kurt, "I had to, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," Kurt told him. He reached out and took the hand that sat on the table. "But I'm glad you did."

Burt squeezed his hand before sitting forward and resting his forearms on the table. "As I was saying, I got a list of a few mutant friendly places we can move to so th-"

"What! No! Dad, we can't move, what about the shop?"

"It's just a garage, Kurt, I can set one up where ever we go!"

Kurt smiled softly at his father. "You would really do that?" he asked. Burt shrugged again. "We can't anyway, you're sick, the move would cause too much stress."

With a roll of his eyes his dad said, "Knowing that you're still here will cause me too much stress."

Kurt sighed, finally getting up and taking their dishes to the sink. "We're not going to figure this out now. Can we talk in the morning?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." Burt moved him before he can stick his hands in the soapy dishwater. "Go. Get some sleep. _Go._" he added when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. Kurt smiled softy and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, Dad, thanks again," he said quietly. "For everything."

The next few days were some of Kurt's worse. He was on edge the entire time, every noise, every movement makes him jump. He kept expecting an angry mob with torches and pitchforks to arrive at his door.

It didn't come, obviously. But the flood of texts did. Different variations of 'freak' and 'fag' populated them and he had to wade through the crap to find the kinder ones. He stopped reading Rachel Berry's angry messages about betraying the glee club after her fourth message but Tina and Mercedes were relentless. They each sent at least one every hour.

**From Tina**

_Kurt, is everything okay? Are you sick again?_

**From Mercedes**

_You weren't in school again, how you holding up?_

**From Mercedes**

_There is some wacked up stuff going around about you._

**From Tina**

_You know we don't care, right? If it is true? You're still the Kurt Hummel we know and love._

**From Puck**

_Dude, that is freaking awesome!_

Even though he knew he had their support, he couldn't bring himself to go back to that school after what happened with Karofsky. Not that his father would have let him anyway.

After almost a week of hiding away he was starting to lose it. He hated being locked inside. It was like being a caged animal and it was driving him insane.

The doorbell rang one night at dinner. Both Kurt and his dad froze and stared at each other.

"Stay here," Burt ordered in a low voice. He waited until his father had left the kitchen before he snuck into the living room, crouching by the hallway door to listen.

"... here to see Kurt."

"Well, I'm sorry, but he's not having any visitors at the moment."

"I assure you, we mean no harm." It was a soft voice, a man's voice but he couldn't place it.

"Yeah, that's what everyone says," his father retorted.

"Mr Hummel, my name is Charles Xavier, and this Dr Jean Grey, one of the teachers at my school for gifted youngsters."

Kurt hears his father pause. "Jean Grey?" he asked softly and he must have received some sort of confirmation because he said, "Yeah, I know you. You do all that work for mutant equality. You were against the mutant registry." He knew his father so well and he could hear the change in his voice. "You're here to see Kurt?"

"We're here to help him," a woman's voice - probably Dr Grey's - said and it was gentle and kind. Kurt recognised the voice, he knew he had heard it before but he can't put a face to it. "If he wants it."

Burt grunted, and Kurt could hear the door squeak as he opened it wider, probably letting them inside. He jumped back from the door as his dad opened it.

"Hey, Kurt, can you come- oh." He stopped when he saw him standing there and Kurt gave his father a guilty shrug. Burt didn't say anything, merely walked into the room to stand beside him, placing a protective hand on his shoulder.

Kurt watched the door as a slender woman comes through and immediately he recognised her as Dr Jean Grey. He had seen her on television, on the news, arguing for mutant rights. She had a kind face and a soft smile. Politely, she stepped aside once she was in the room to allow a suited man in a wheelchair to pass. He was bald and smiling warmly at Kurt as he moved the electric wheelchair in front of him.

"Kurt Hummel?" Kurt nodded and the man offered out a hand.

"I am Professor Charles Xavier, and I am here to invite you to my school for mutants."

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**For those of you asking about Blaine, he'll be around next chapter! :) ~Turtle**


	3. Chapter 3

**The response I've gotten to this is overwhelming and it hasn't even been up two days! Thank you so much to everyone! It warms my heart that people seem to like this! I'm not perfect at this, I make mistakes so if you see a typo or continuity error that I missed PLEASE point it out to me! I want to make this enjoyable for everyone to read and grammar mistakes won't help.**

**Additionally, if anyone wants to Beta this, let me know!  
**

**But for now, enjoy some Blaine. :):)  
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"Kurt, stop fidgeting, it's going to be fine."

Kurt wanted to believe him, his voice even sounded confident enough but his father's leg kept constantly twitching, a sign of his nerves and it was setting him on edge.

"I will if you will," Kurt countered with a playful edge to his tone. Burt caught his eye and they both smiled.

"Alright, so maybe I'm a little nervous too," he hummed with a smile. "But I'm heading to a place filled with a bunch of people that want to take my son away from me."

"They're not taking me away, Dad, technically, we're coming to them." Burt gave a throaty chuckle and shifted in his airplane seat, (first class, paid for by Professor Xavier). They fell into an easy silence. Kurt tried to bury himself in the inflight magazine while his father squinted at the tiny TV in front of him but he couldn't focus.

_"How did you know about me? How did you know I was...Having trouble?" _

_"We have eyes and ears everywhere, Kurt," the professor had told him. "Mutants who we have crossed paths with, some passing through our halls as students, others looking for a moment's peace from the outside world. Ohio is not without mutants, many are just not revealing themselves as such. Your school is not a stranger to them."_

_Kurt's eyes had widened and Professor Xavier had smiled a kind and knowing smile. _

_"A cheerleading coach with the ability to manipulate the emotions of those around her alerted us to you. I believe she likes to inflict fear on those around her to get her way." This time, Kurt's mouth had dropped. _

_"Coach Sylvester?" he exclaimed in shock and the professor nodded._

It felt weird to think that there had been more mutants in his school. Part of him suspected it, much like he suspected he wasn't the only gay kid, just the only one who was out, (and look how right he had turned out to be about _that!_). But Coach Sylvester? He supposed it made sense. Every time she was near she seemed to wash an icy cold fear over them. Kurt had just thought that was because she was a dementor disguised in an unflattering, red polyester tracksuit.

They touched down and were ushered out into the terminal, into a slim, long dark car and Kurt was giddy with the excitement of _New York_. He wouldn't be in the city, he'd be out in Westchester but it was still only a car ride away. He rested his head against the window of the backseat where he and his father were, watching as the high rise buildings slowly melted away into to suburbs. Everything was so different from Ohio, the air seemed lighter here.

"_So, what exactly is your school?" Kurt asked. They were sitting now, Kurt beside his father on the long couch, Professor Xavier in front of them separated from them by the coffee table and Dr Grey on the arm chair just to the left._

"_Anonymity is a mutant's first defence against the world's hostility, Kurt," the professor had explained. He was so understanding in answering all of their questions, patient and never frustrated. It gave Kurt a sense of security he hadn't felt since before this whole ordeal. "To the public, we are merely a school for gifted youngsters. The students are mostly runaways – frightened, alone, some with gifts so extreme that they have become a danger to themselves and those around them. We protect them; teach them to control their power. Jean was one of my first students."_

_Both Kurt and his father's eyes widened as they glanced at her. "You're a mutant?" Burt asked. She nodded with a soft smile._

"_Yes, both the Professor and I are mutants," she explained. "We both teach at the school. Kurt will have the opportunity to learn with us and if he so wishes, re-join the world an educated young man, or he could stay on to teach others as many have done."_

Kurt straightened in his seat, his eyes darting through the window, searching for… something.

"Kurt, you okay, kiddo?" his father asked. Kurt looked at him and nodded once.

"Yeah, it just feels… odd," he mused, glancing back out the window. "It's different, there's an energy of sorts here. It's like static in the air, or something. I think we're close."

He was right and soon they found themselves outside the large estate house that was Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The building was old and Kurt could only stare open mouthed at the architecture. They were ushered inside to see Professor Xavier again. Students moved through the hallway and Kurt watched them, laughing and joking. A girl sneezed and her entire hand stretched down to the floor. Kurt watched her shake her hand until it's of normal size as though it's a regular occurrence while her friends called her from down the hall to hurry up.

And then she was gone. And no one said anything.

Kurt knew this was where he was meant to be.

He sat with his father and the professor while they talked technicalities. Kurt tried to pay attention but he couldn't stop staring out the window. Every so often, someone would walk by. Some would be so normal that Kurt wondered if they even were mutant but then they would do something like spit out a three metre length tongue or turn purple.

Kurt turned back to his father and Professor Xavier. The professor, just like he had been back in Lima, was a picture of calm, despite the tirade of questions Kurt had no doubt his father was throwing at him. They had been here for over an hour and he could see his father was running out of questions. He smiled and wondered if he was just delaying the evitable goodbye.

Burt took a deep breath and stared Xavier straight in the eye. "What if he's homesick?" he asked and Kurt suppressed a groan. "Or what if I, you know… What if I want to see him?"

"You are more than welcome, Mr Hummel, to come visit your son any time you so wish," he replied with that same kind smile. Kurt grinned at his father's raised eyebrows.

"Really? Just like that?"

"I would have to ask you to sign the visitors slip, but yes, just like that. Contrary to popular belief, Mr Hummel, but we mutants are not all as totally averse to humans as they perceive us to be."

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure," Burt said, sitting back in his chair. He gave Professor Xavier a grateful smile. "Thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgement while Kurt said to his father in an amused voice, "finished?" Burt looked at him out of the side of his eye and sighed.

"I guess so," he mused, still studying his son. "You really like it here, don't you?" Kurt couldn't stop his head bobbing up and down enthusiastically, his smile so big it hurt his cheeks. "Well, then, I guess my decision is made. I don't think I could keep you from it if I tried."

Kurt sprung across to his father's chair, wrapping his arms around him and chanting, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you _thank you!_" Burt chuckled, hugging his son back.

It was a while before Kurt could really say goodbye and even then he only did so because he knew his father would miss his flight. He hugged him tight, breathing him in. He had one of his father's plaid shirts hidden in one of his bags in case he felt homesick but he knew it wouldn't be the same.

Burt held him at arm's length and cleared his through. "Now, Kurt, I want you to listen to me," he said in a gruff voice and god, Kurt hoped it wasn't because he was trying to not cry because if he did it would only set Kurt off and he would be like a water fountain. "Just because you're here, just because they're gonna accept you as a mutant, does not mean they have the right to give you crap about anything else, okay? Nothing! And if they do, call me, and I will be up here faster than you can say Hummel's Tires and Lube, got it?"

"I got it, Dad. I promise. I love you so much."

"I love you too, kid."

Professor Xavier politely waited until Kurt was ready after his father left before coming back. Kurt wondered as he followed the wheelchair down the hall how he knew the right time and then realised he didn't actually know what his new principal's power was.

_Can I ask him? Is it okay to ask another mutant what they can do? Or is that, like, a pickup line? Instead of 'hey, what's your sign?' do you say 'hey, what's your power?'_

The professor chuckled beside him. "It's alright, Kurt, many mutants don't mind being asked what they can do," he told him. Kurt stared wide eyed at him. He opened his mouth to ask but the professor tapped the side of his head. "Telepathy," he told Kurt. "I can read minds. And I also have the ability to control them, though it is not something I do often."

Kurt felt his cheeks go bright red. "Oh, god! I'm sorry! Really I am! I didn't-"

"It's alright, Kurt," Xavier repeated with another chuckle. "Like I said, it's like an icebreaker for conversations, much like asking what their favourite Katy Perry song may be for humans."

Kurt smiled tentatively, cheeks still a little warm. The professor brought him through the hallways stopping at a door.

"This school is a sanctuary for many, Kurt, and you must not feel you have to hide any part of you here. Should you ever feel the need, my door is always open. Never feel that there is something you should have to hide."

Kurt nodded. "Thank you, professor. Not many people are as open as you."

"Would you like to join your first class, Kurt?" he asked, nodding to a door. Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. Gently, Xavier reached forward and opened the door, leading Kurt into the classroom.

Kurt was surprised at the amount of students. He had known there were a few but he hadn't expected this. Almost twenty faces turned to look at them as they walked in. Kurt felt himself shrink back a little at the attention.

"Kurt, I would like you to meet Storm, she will be your English teacher," Professor Xavier explained, motioning to a woman at the top of the class with snow white, shoulder length hair. "And these are some of your classmates. Everyone, I would like you to meet Kurt Hummel, our newest student to be joining us."

Kurt's eyes skimmed the faces as they all mumbled back a hello. He saw the girl who had sneezed and elasticated her hand on one side of the room and just a few feet away was the purple boy he had spied earlier. Some were peering curiously at him, others were already turning away.

"Blaine Anderson?" Xavier said suddenly, causing Kurt to jump. A boy in just a little in front of them in the back row started.

"Y-yes, professor?" he said in a quiet voice, turning beet red. Kurt's eyes fell on him and he wonders how he skipped over him when he was scanning the class because he was stunning. He was tanned with dark hair that was curling slightly despite the amount of gel he was wearing. His eyes were a soft shade of hazel and wide after being called out.

"Would you be so as to see to it that Kurt settles in?" he told Blaine. Kurt looked at him and saw something in his expression, like he knew something no one else did.

"Y-yes, professor," Blaine replied, giving a curt nod. The professor smiled and turned to leave, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Enjoy your class Kurt."

When he left, Kurt looked back to Blaine. Blaine shifted awkwardly but motioned to the empty seat beside him. Kurt sat down as Storm resumed class again and Blaine shot him a soft, warming smile and Kurt felt suddenly so much more at ease.

Yes, he thought he was to like it here.

"So, it's Kurt, right?"

They were finished English and already people were filing past them. Each of them smiled warmly at Kurt as they passed. It was an unusual thing, to be accepted without question and it unnerved him a little but at the sound of Blaine's voice all his worries seem to melt from his head, (and _that_ was even weirder). Kurt nodded as he picked up his bag and Blaine smiled.

"Well, hello, Kurt, I'm Blaine Anderson," he said in a bright voice, offering out his hand. Kurt took it with a little laugh at Blaine's cheerfulness. "Welcome to Mutant High!"

"It's nice to meet you, Blaine," Kurt said and he couldn't help but absorb his enthusiasm. "And it's very good to be here."

"So, Kurt, it's about time for lunch now, you hungry?" Blaine asked, leading them out of the classroom. It hit Kurt just how starving he was, everything had been so overwhelming he hadn't even thought about food. He nodded energetically and Blaine chuckled. "Okay, well follow me. So, uh, what is it you can do?"

Kurt thought about just telling him but he couldn't help remembering all the people he saw earlier openingly showing off their skills. Other than his dad – and Karofsky, though Kurt would much rather not think about it – no one had actually seen his ability. His pride got the better of him and he held out a hand. A tiny flame erupted from his palm, red gold and flickering. He rolled it expertly over his fingers and then tossed it into the air where he let it disappear into the air.

Blaine let out a long whistle. "Impressive," he said, nodding at the spot where the flame had been. Kurt preened at the praise.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "So what can you do?"

"It's actually a little similar to yours, only my materials are different," Blaine told him. He held out his hand like Kurt did. Something shimmered in the middle of his palm and then spread out until his entire hand is covered in water, like a glove. Blaine turned it so his palm was facing down and he bounced his hand to allow a drop to fall, still attached by a string of water. He let it fall until just above the ground and pulled it back up again. Blaine repeated it, like he was playing with a yoyo. He shook his hand out after a moment and the water fell away into nothing. "See?"

"Wow, impressive," Kurt said as they reached a set of double doors. Blaine pushed them open to reveal a cafeteria of sorts.

A line of food covered one wall and the rest of the large room was taken up by big rectangular tables. It wouldn't be that different from a regular school except everywhere Kurt looked he saw mutants. The purple boy walked past and waved and Blaine returned it with a "Hey, Jeff." A short girl with cat ears was walking with her tray balanced on her furry tail. There were kids of all ages here. He spotted a girl who looked about nine skipping past, leading a very muscled man who looked like he should have left school a few years ago just by his sheer size.

"Crazy, isn't it?" Blaine said and Kurt realised that his mouth was hanging open. He snaps it shut as he followed Blaine to the food.

"There are so many," he said, accepting the tray Blaine handed to him. "It's so… so amazing!"

Kurt let Blaine lead him through the food, pointing out the reasons for some of them. ("The raw meat is for Leon, he's part lion, I think. The flower petals are for Polly, she can make pretty much any flower grow from her fingers. The shoes are for Bobby to chew on, he's very doggy like.") He follows him down to a table with five other boys there.

"Everyone, this is Kurt," Blaine announced as they sat down and they all gave their greetings. He introduced everyone. Wes, a super genius who could remember almost everything he had every read or seen; David could duplicate any inanimate object with a touch; Jeff, the purple guy, could imitate any noise with perfect precision; Nick had the ability to turn invisible and; Trent could create small illusions and manipulate dreams.

Kurt loved talking to them, to their stories of Mutant High and even some of those from before they arrived, (like Trent's trick on a bully who outed him as being a mutant by pretending there was an apple that he wanted to eat but every time it reached his lips would end up right back on the table).

"So where are you staying?" Wes asked as they cleared their trays. "Have you got a room yet?"

"Oh, um…" Professor Xavier had told him to stay wherever he liked but right now he wasn't sure where exactly that was. "I don't know yet."

"Well, Wes, David, Trent and Jeff all share a room but why don't you stay with me and Blaine?" Nick said with a smile. "We got a spare bed, you might as well. Right, Blaine?"

"Yeah! That'd be great!" Blaine said, grinning like an excited puppy. Kurt didn't think he'd ever be able to say no to that face. Sitting at lunch it was always Blaine's stories he had loved the most. He loved his animated face when he talked, loved how musical his voice sounded.

"Sure, I'd love to," he said, mirroring Blaine's smile.

"Great!" Nick said, thumping him on the back. "There's another guy, Andy, but he doesn't talk much so it's not so bad. And then…"

Kurt wasn't even listening as they made their way down the hallway to their afternoon classes. He and Blaine were walking side by side, bumping shoulders every so often. Blaine would whisper little things to Kurt, filling him in on the workings of the school as they walked and Kurt couldn't help but smile.

He was definitely going to like it here.

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**Also, I'm MyUnimportantRamblings on Tumblr if you like!:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm a teeny weeny bit late, I know, but I was a sick on Monday so writing was out of the question. A huge, unbelievably amazing thank you to Phillip, my fantastic Beta! And of course to everyone for their amazing responses because I don't think I'll ever really be able to come to terms with the attention this is receiving and it really doesn't deserve it so thank you! Again!**

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Blaine showed Kurt their room that evening, awkwardly carrying in Kurt's bags. It wasn't an overly large room. Two beds were along one wall, each with a desk on one side and a bedside table on the other. Opposite them were a third and fourth bed so the room was mirrored. Nick was nowhere to be found, having disappeared off to hang with Jeff and the others, and their other roommate, Andy, supposedly spent all his time in the library.

"So, what do you think?" Blaine asked Kurt, scratching the back of his neck and not really looking at him.

"It's not home," Kurt told him honestly. Where Kurt's room was bright woods and white, here it was rich mahoganies and dark emerald sheets. He sat down on his bed, letting his hands spread out across over the soft material of the comforter, and smiled up at Blaine. "But I think I'm going to like it here."

Blaine matched his smile a little awkwardly for a second before turning to his own bed, just opposite Kurt's. Keeping his back to him he said, "So, um, bathroom is just through that door, there's a shower in there too. It's for the room so the four of us share but just hop in whenever it's free."

"I think I might go now, before dinner," Kurt hummed. "I smell like airplane and first day of school." Blaine let out a small chuckle but the room fell into an awkward silence after that. It seemed to weigh on top of Kurt and he felt he had to do something to break the quiet. As he zipped open his bag for his shower supplies he said the first thing that came to mind.

"So what's your favourite Katy Perry song?" His voice seemed just a little too high not to be nervous in the quiet room. He suddenly hated Professor Xavier for putting that thought into his head.

"I...Uh, _what!_" Blaine said, confusion filling his voice. Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up, no doubt they were scarlet. He found his shower caddy and straightened up.

"Sorry, I was just... I- um-" Crap. Where was his towel!

"Ohhh..." Blaine said slowly and he let out a small huff of laughter. "The professor said something like that, right?"

"Yeah, about breaking the ice," Kurt muttered and yes! He found his towel! He quickly edged his way to the bathroom, avoiding looking at Blaine who was giving another breathy chuckle. "I'm just going to..."

"He said the same to me," Blaine assured him but Kurt barely paid attention to him, trying all he could to cool his flaming cheeks down. He was right at the door to the bathroom now, he could just dart in and-

"Kurt?"

He froze and knew he'd have to look at him. For a second he attempted to school his features into something neutral. Then he realised his cheeks looked like oversized cherries and easily gave him away. He looked up at Blaine and gave him a shy smile. Blaine grinned at him.

"It's Teenage Dream, just to let you know," he said and turned back to his bed.

Kurt wanted to thwack his head against the door frame but scooted quickly inside. He fell against the door once it was closed and slid down until he hit the tiled floor.

"Fantastic, Kurt," he moaned to himself, "you're not even here half a day and you're already making a fool out of yourself."

With a groan he pushed himself off the floor and readied himself for his shower, trying very hard _not_ to linger on the fact that Blaine was on the other side of the wall.

Two weeks.

That was all it took for Kurt to realise he was hopelessly head over heels in love with Blaine. He was in love with his musical laugh, his bright smile, his sparkling eyes and even the way he used far too much hair gel. Kurt liked talking to Blaine. He was nice and understanding.

Not that he would say anything about liking him. No, Kurt was perfectly happy to sit and daydream about the various ways Blaine would announce his undying love for him, sometimes in song in front of the school, others in the quiet of their room while Nick and Andy were away. Though the means and location of these imaginary declarations of love changed, they always remained exactly that. Imaginary. No matter how he wished otherwise.

Sometimes he thought he'd caught Blaine looking at him, and watched the blush creeping onto his cheeks just like it was on his own. Maybe it was wishful thinking, Kurt just seeing what he wanted to. So he remained quiet. The more he got to know Blaine, the more he was sure he wanted him in his life. He wasn't willing to risk him over a few erratic hormones. He would rather have Blaine as friend than not have him at all.

The only problem was that it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide the truth. Whatever time they didn't spend in class or at the library doing homework was spent in their room. Andy left as soon as he was awake and showered and didn't return until exactly three minutes before curfew every night and Nick seemed to spend all his time playing video games with Jeff which meant Kurt and Blaine were left in each other's company every evening.

There were days where they would talk for hours, slowly moving across the room until they were next to each other, lying head to foot on the ground or with their sides pressed against each other as they sat, maybe reading from a single magazine. Other days they would be quiet, just enjoying each other's presence, moving in synchronisation around each other, in a silent harmony. Kurt didn't know which his favourite was, he just loved every moment. But it was frustrating for Kurt to be so close to him but not being able to really touch him.

"When did you realise?" Kurt asked quietly after being at the school a little over a month. He was sitting on his bed, leaning back against the head board, legs bent a little so he could rest his book on them to read. He had stopped looking at the book in favour of watching Blaine as he played with a bead of water about ten minutes earlier. He'd hold it between his thumb and index finger, freeze it, and then throw it into the air and catch in in his palm where it would turn back to water. He jumped a little, startled by Kurt's sudden noise. He looked up at Kurt, his brow furrowed in question.

"That you could manipulate water?" Kurt explained, unable to help giving him an endearing smile as his adorable confusion. Blaine nodded in understanding, sitting up straighter.

"Um, it was... About a year and a half ago? I think," Blaine said slowly, carefully and Kurt suddenly regretted asking.

"You don't have to tell me," he said hastily, "I was just... Curious."

"No, Kurt, it's fine," Blaine said with a laugh but Kurt could hear the tiny nervous tremor. He watched Blaine bite his lower lip, contemplating something. He made his decision getting up and walking over to Kurt, nudging his knees with his elbow. Kurt immediately tucked his legs underneath him, making room for Blaine on the bed to sit and cross his legs in front of him. He could think of nothing to do but give him a reassuring smile.

"Okay, so you know how I have an older brother?" Blaine asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah, Cooper, right?"

"Right. Well, when we were younger there was some... Brotherly competition," Blaine told him. "Not anything serious, just the usual stuff but I always felt as if my parents paid more attention to him than to me. I might have been imagining it when I was younger but that was defiantly the case after I came out to them. They weren't very happy with me. They focused more on Cooper after that." He took a deep breath. "Cooper went off to LA and things got... a little difficult at home. All I ever heard was _Cooper this_ and _Cooper that_ and _our brilliant son Cooper_."

Without thinking, Kurt reached out to put a hand on his knee. Blaine gave him a weak smile, just a quirk of the corner if his mouth.

"Cooper came home to visit and I... I was jealous, there's no other excuse. I got into a fight with him about something stupid and then my dad came in and it turned into a fight with my dad and before I knew it..." Blaine unclasped his hands from they were clenched together in front of him and spread his hands palm up. He looked Kurt in the eye and shrugged. "It just... seem to explode out of me. There was water everywhere."

Blaine stared at his palms. He didn't say anything, didn't move, just stared.

"What happened then?" Kurt asked quietly when the silence became too much. Blaine's head snapped up, as if he just remembered Kurt was still there, still in front of him. He blinked a few times and took another deep breath.

"Well, I was even more of a disappointment after that," Blaine said in a hard voice, sitting up straight again causing Kurt's hand to fall from his knee. He brought it back to his own lap as Blaine eyed it briefly before continuing. "I mean, having a son who was gay was bad enough but gay _and_ a mutant? I might as well have been a terrorist."

"Blaine, I'm sor-" Kurt began but Blaine cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't be sorry," he said with a soft chuckle. "It wasn't your fault. And anyway, things actually worked out okay in the end. When my parents shunned me, Cooper was there. He looked after me, let me stay with him. He even found this place!" Kurt's eyes widened as Blaine gestured around them. "A friend if his in LA was a mutant, he told him about Professor Xavier and Cooper flew up here and all but busted through the door to get me in. Despite everything, my jealousy, our constant competition, he was there for me."

There was a soft smile on Blaine's face as he stared at nothing in particular. Kurt felt his chest tighten as Blaine slowly turned to look at him. Blaine's forehead creased a little as he looked at him, leaning ever so slightly forward and Kurt unconsciously mirrored his movements.

"Kurt..." He wasn't sure if it was a question, all he knew was that Blaine sounded like he had just woken up from a dream.

"Yes, Blaine?" he said quietly when he didn't continue. He watched Blaine's eyes dart between his own, the hazel so bright and full of life. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, speaking unspoken words.

His eyes closed, his mouth snapped shut and he pulled back slowly from Kurt.

"Nevermind."

But Kurt wasn't ready to let him go. "Blaine, wait." His eyes opened again, expectant. "What is it? Y-you can tell me."

His head dropped to look between them, his hand reaching forward to take Kurt's. Kurt watched as he entwined them, lacing their fingers. He wondered if it was just by chance that they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. He sensed, rather than saw, Blaine raise his head and he followed to meet his eyes.

"Kurt," he repeated softly, his voice wrapping around the word like silk. His heart felt too big for his chest, like it was trying to squeeze between his ribs at the sound of Blaine's voice. "Kurt, I don't think I've ever... I've never felt like this," he said, his voice just a little more than a whisper. "Like I could take on the world because of how I feel... About you. I don't know how to explain it, I-"

Kurt shushed him and he saw Blaine falter. "You know have to explain," he said with a quiet smile, "Because I think I understand. I think I feel it too."

Blaine let out a shaky breath, like he had been holding it in for centuries, or like he had just revealed the world's best kept secret.

"I like you, Kurt," he said with a little more confidence. Kurt ducked his head to hide his beaming smile.

"I like you, too."

Blaine let out a huff relief and Kurt looked up to see his run a hand through his hair. A curl came loose from the gel, lying against his forehead. He wanted to reach out, to brush it away and suddenly realised he could. Tentatively he raised his head, looking into Blaine's eyes in question. He nodded as Kurt's hand hovered less than an inch from his skin. Gently, he brushed the hair back, letting his hand trail along his temple. Blaine's eye lids fluttered closed and Kurt smiled as he leaned lightly into the touch and his hand ghosted down over his cheek and along his jaw. He never got to do this with Blaine before, with anyone. His heart was racing, his veins buzzing with something like electricity and he was wondering if this was affecting Blaine like it was him when he felt him shiver beneath his fingertips-

"Ow ow ow!" Kurt yelled. He snatched his hand back, propelling himself away from Blaine. "Oh my god! Wasn't expecting that!"

"What is it? What is it? I'm sorry! Oh god, Kurt, I'm so so sorry!" Blaine said in a rush. He made to move forward, but thought better of himself, clasping his hands in his lap. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm sor-"

"Blaine, it's fine, I just overreacted," Kurt explained with a laugh. "It was the shock more than anything. See?"

He raised his hand to show three of his fingers coated in a sheet of ice, like little thimbles, no more than half a centimetre thick. Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt laughed lightly at his expression.

"That... That must have been from when I shivered," Blaine in a quiet voice, staring at his fingers. His eyebrows knotted together and he reached out a hand. "Sorry, do you what me to...?"

"No, I got it," Kurt hummed, already allowing the familiar heat to build up in his hand. The icy tips melted away, leaving slightly pink fingers behind which Kurt wiggled experimentally. "Good as new."

Blaine grinned, reaching forward to take his raised hand. He brought it to his lips, kissing the fingers gently before moving to slide his hands through the hair just above Kurt's ear. Kurt hummed, tilting his head against Blaine's hand.

"Kurt, can I..." he began, his voice quiet again. "Can I kiss you?"

He blinked at Blaine, wide eyed and hopeful, nodding as he bit his lip to hide smile. Blaine smiled with relief shuffling forward until he could comfortably press his lips against Kurt's.

This was nothing like Kurt had ever experienced before, and certainly nothing like his kiss with Karofsky. Blaine was soft, gentle, guiding him as his lips moved slowly against Kurt's. He sighed against Blaine's lips, his arms winding themselves around Blaine's neck. Then there was something wet and oh! That was Blaine's tongue flicking against his lips and without thinking twice and not wanting to Kurt parted his lips, letting out a whimper when he felt Blaine's tongue slide against his own.

The sound must have worried Blaine because he began to pull back but Kurt tightened his arms around him, tugging him forward. Blaine let out a strangled noise that sent Kurt's stomach into a frenzy of butterflies. He followed Kurt, a hand on his back, lowering him down so that he was half lying down, and half leaning against the headboard with Blaine partly on top of him. He couldn't think straight with Blaine's body pressing against him. The only thing rushing through his head was trying to fathom how he did those sinful things with his tongue - the flicks, the curls and oh when he sucked Kurt's tongue into his own mouth.

One hand fell from Blaine's neck, searching. He wanted Blaine's hands on his, touching him, searching him, exploring him... It took a moment, desperately moving across the sheets until he wrapped it around Blaine's wrist.

Blaine's lips tore away from his own with a flurry of "Shit! Shit! That is hot!"

Kurt stared at him, about to ask him what's wrong when he sees the angry red burn on his wrist. It was then he realised the pins and needles like feeling in his hand. "Oh my god! You're kidding me! Blaine, I'm sorry, I must have got carried away."

Blaine chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. Already there was a steady flow of water around his wrist like a bracelet to ease the burn. Kurt bit his lip.

"We're not very good at this, are we?" he said in a quiet voice, cheeks flaming.

Blaine turned to him, took his face in his uninjured hand and smiled. "It's okay, we'll get better with practise," he said in a soft voice, kissing the tip of Kurt's nose.

"You'd really do that?" It was hard to keep the disbelief from his voice. "Go to all that trouble? To practice with me?"

Blaine smiled impossibly wide. "There is no one I'd rather practise with," he admits. He kisses him again, this time soft and chaste and Kurt knows there is no one he'd rather practice with either.

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	5. Chapter 5

**This wasn't supposed to be this long of a wait but woops! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING SO AMAZING! The reviews, the support, have all been phenomenal and it means so much to me and I'm not going to ramble on because it's not important just know that every review for this story results in imaginary cookies for you!**

**ENJOY!  
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Kurt wasn't sure when exactly he realised he had developed a habit of looking over his shoulder. Perhaps it had always been there, remnant of all his days being bullied in McKinley, a defence mechanism built into his system. All he knew was he was slowly becoming accustomed to the familiar prickle on the back of his neck and the turn of his head, eyes scanning and trying to figure out why he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Blaine caught him more than once, placing a hand on his shoulder, breaking Kurt out of his revere with a concerned look. He would just shake his head, putting it down to being in a school of mutants. There was always some sort of energy in the air, whether it was from their abilities or from their hormones, so Kurt did his best to ignore it.

Once a month they were brought into the city to break them out of their sheltered life. Usually they were brought to museums, always educational, letting them roam, learning the history that was dictated by the people who despised them.

Though they weren't strictly allowed, during the time they were given free reign of the museum Blaine took Kurt's hand, tugging him towards the doors leading out into New York City. He knew they should stay, but as long as they didn't make a scene and reveal themselves they wouldn't _technically_ be breaking the rules.

Blaine bought him his first official New York City cup of coffee - the first of many, Kurt reminded himself - and they sat in the little hole in the wall cafe, away from the prying and judging eyes of the city goers. Not that they minded two teenage boys holding hands but Kurt was almost sure someone would figure it out. They didn't stay long, knowing they had to be back before their absence was noticed, but even so they walked slowly through the streets, swinging their hands between them.

"Blaine, look," Kurt said softly, pulling him over to the window of an antique store just around the corner from the museum. He nodded to a music box on display and Blaine watched a small smile tug at his lips. "My mother used to have one just like it. She played it for me when I couldn't sleep. It's broken now but Dad still has it." His eyes roamed the window with an air of quiet excitement. "They're beautiful aren't they?"

Blaine gave his arm a tug. "Come on, let's go inside," he said, pulling him to the door but Kurt didn't move.

"We can't, Blaine," he said in a sombre voice and at his quizzical look Kurt nodded to the door. Stuck against the window from the inside was a large sign with bold red letters: NO MUTANTS. Blaine stared for a second before giving a shrug.

"It'll be fine, Kurt, what they don't know won't hurt them," he said, pulling him to the door again but Kurt didn't budge.

"Blaine..." His voice was quiet, a mixture of defeat and self-pity. Blaine bit his lip and moved to stand in front of him. He dropped Kurt's hand, raising his hands to cup his face.

"Kurt Hummel," he said softly despite the little but of authority Kurt could hear and Blaine inched closer until their noses were only a little apart. "Do not think for one second that you are not good enough for them. You are amazing, and perfect. They won't know, I promise. If I had never met you and I had just happened to walk past you on the street, I wouldn't think 'Oh, that's a mutant', I would think 'Oh wow! Look how beautiful that boy is.' You do not scream mutant and people should never treat you as if you do."

Kurt rested their foreheads together, letting their noses bump. "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do," Blaine chuckled. His lips brushed against Kurt's briefly. "You are perfect, I promise."

Inside was like almost like the bedroom of a time traveller. Paintings from every art movement hung on any wall space that wasn't taken up by shelves that housed clocks and trinkets and jewellery and watches. Old and dusty model cars and little statues littered the tops of the antique dressers and tables. Ornate hair brushes, a carved stone bird bath, a metal mail box with an intricate design on the front and a silver bell with the inscription _To Our Baby Emily_. Kurt explored everything, tightly holding to Blaine's hand and pointing out things that interested him, which was pretty much everything.

In the back of a shop a man in his forties was sitting behind a wooden topped counter. He nodded to them in a greeting before turning to where there was a small TV on the bench, turned slightly so it faced out into the shop. There was a news program on a reporter talking about a fire somewhere in the city. Beside the TV was a shallow tray with velvet lining and an assortment of beautiful broaches that Kurt immediately went to study as the reporter's voice from the tiny box washed over his, catching only snippets of his words. He hand moved to his pocket to take out his wallet to buy one of the broaches as the report ended and the newsreader picked up.

"Senator Arthur Smythe has today announced the new regulations that will take place should the new Mutant Registration Act be passed," the announcer read. Kurt froze before his hand reached his wallet. He turned slowly to the TV to watch a reporter on scene outside some government building, microphone with the station logo hovering in front of her. "The Senator, who has openly said he is against mutants in our schools and workplaces, has informed the public at a press meeting outside City Hall this morning that upon registration, mutants will be required to relocate to specially designated areas set aside away from the public. Should these Act come into law, mutants will have thirty days to register or face penalties. Senator Smythe, seen here with his son, Sebastian Smythe-" the picture cut from the reporter to a man standing behind a podium talking into a microphone with a boy not much older than Kurt behind him, no doubt his son by the resemblance "-has been campaigning for the Mutant Registration Act since his rise to office last October."

Kurt watched as the reporter signed off, the camera still on the senator and his son. The son stood proud behind his father in matching suits. He had a handsome face and a pompous smirk as he looked out on the people who had come to listen to his father but there was something off about him. Kurt watched him for the few seconds he was on screen, studying him, trying to pin point the abnormality. The senator finished whatever he was saying, turning to his son and pulling him forward with a hand on his should. The last shot before the channel snapped back to the news studio was of father and son, arms clasped around each other as they smiled for the flashing cameras. But… was that… _no!_ He couldn't have just seen that? In the last frame before it cut was-

"Kurt?"

Blaine's soft voice was so loud in the quiet shop and when his arm landed on Kurt's elbow Kurt jumped like a startled deer. He had been so wrapped up in the news report he had forgotten Blaine was even there, forgotten where they even were. Blaine's features were a mix of concern and confusion.

"Kurt," he said again, taking a step closer to him. His eyes flicked between Kurt and the TV and back again. "It's okay, Kurt, it's not going to happen. It won't. There's no way they can allow it."

"It's not that, it's not…" Kurt said breathlessly, eyes darting around the room until they landed on the man behind the counter, staring at them curiously through narrowed eyes. He swallowed, remembering the sign on the door. Not taking his eyes off the man he said in a hard voice, "Let's go, Blaine."

"What is it?" Blaine asked in a quiet voice once they were outside and making their way back to the museum. "What is it you couldn't say in there?"

"The senator's son, he seemed… off," Kurt mumbled, staring straight. They turned a corner onto the busier street and right up ahead was their destination. "Right at the end, just before the cameras cut, I saw something."

"What was it? What did you see?" He watched Kurt set his mouth in a hard line as they mounted the steps. When they reached the top he reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, turning him towards him. "Kurt," he said in a soft voice, begging to be trusted.

"Just before the end, right before it cut…" Kurt said in a low voice, looking over Blaine's head. He was struggling to find the right words. Blaine gave his hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze and he finally met his eyes. "He looked right at the camera at the end, and his eyes… they were different."

Kurt bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder quickly. He couldn't shake the awful feeling of foreboding because this really wasn't right and it only mean bad things were coming. He leaned in close so no one would over hear them.

"Blaine, it's very obvious Sebastian Smythe supports his father's campaign and I can't help but feel that this is bigger than just some silly politician and it's not a good feeling." Blaine only stared, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Sebastian Smyth is a mutant."

...

Kurt isn't exactly sure why it's such a big deal to him but something in his gut, running through his veins is telling him that something is very very very wrong.

Blaine had barely been able to open his mouth before Storm had found them on the steps, looking annoyed but relieved at the sight of them. She ushered them inside to the rest of the group with only a stern glare that faded in seconds. Blaine kept his eyes trained on Kurt, waiting for him to turn around and explain everything. He didn't, not with all the other students around. Kurt knew something was wrong but damned if he knew what exactly it was.

He was silent next to Blaine on the bus ride back to the school, sitting straight backed as a pencil and his shoulders tense. He didn't take Blaine's hand, only picking at loose treads on the seat in front of him and staring absently into space as he did so. It worried Blaine to no end, seeing his pale face, his wide eyes and the whirring clogs of his brain work behind them.

They skipped dinner, their friends giving then concerned looks but Kurt ignored them - or perhaps didn't notice them as Blaine suspected - and Blaine waved them off. Silently, he walked beside Kurt to their room each step seeing the expression in face change into fear.

"Kurt," Blaine said in a quiet voice once they were in their room, the first time he had spoken since Kurt had shook his head at him in the foyer of the museum. He turned slowly to look at Blaine and in an instant Blaine was across the room to him, wrapping his arms around him.

"Hey, Kurt, it's okay, it's gonna be fine," he whispered in a rushed voice, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He hadn't realised how scared he really was until he was in Blaine's arms and it must have shown on his face once they were alone. He was shaking ever so slightly under Blaine's hands as he placed feverish kisses to Kurt's hair. After his body relaxed into Blaine's chest a little he pulled his head back to look at Kurt. "Tell me," he pleaded in a soft voice that was so filled with care and concern that Kurt couldn't help but press his lips briefly to Blaine's.

"He's wrong," Kurt says in a small voice, winding his arms around Blaine's waist and pressing his cheek to his chest. "He's wrong, Blaine. Sebastian just feels... Wrong. How can any mutant support that, even if it is their father's campaign?"

"Maybe he was acting?" Blaine offered, rocking him gently in tiny movements.

"No one can lie like that, not even on camera," Kurt whispered. "His eyes were so trusting of his father, he really believed what his father was saying."

Silence hung around them, heavy on their shoulders as Blaine once more resumed his soothing circles on Kurt's back. His voice, suddenly a little hoarse, cut through the quiet of their room. "How do you know he was a mutant?"

"His eyes, they changed," Kurt said after a pause so long Blaine hadn't expected him to answer. His voice was muffled from where his face was buried into Blaine's t-shirt. "They were blue, then green, then brown. The change was so subtle that you couldn't notice unless you were looking out for it but just at the end they flashed for a second, a bright red. I don't know what exactly he can do, but I don't think it's anything good."

Neither said anything after that, just stood wrapped around each other. He needed Blaine here, someone to help make him safe. His lips found Blaine's and they kissed slow and long. He so easily found himself lost in the feel of Blaine and all too sound he registers the heat building up in him, the pins and needles feeling in his hands. Blaine's tongue flicked out to lick at his lips and Kurt didn't want to pull away regardless if his quickly heating hands. He just wanted Blaine, only Blaine, as their tongues slid together.

"Hey, Kurt! Blaine! I got you guys some food-" Nick swung the door open and froze when he saw them. They tore their lips from each other, still keeping their arms around each other. Kurt felt his cheeks heat up and buried his face his Blaine's shirt. "oh shit! Sorry! I'll just... Just-Uh."

He peaked out from the fabric of Blaine's shirt to see Nick, standing in the doorway looking very awkward with a tray of food in his hands. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, cheeks turning a little pink until suddenly Nick melted away entirely.

Kurt straightened slightly in shock and if it wasn't for the floating tray in the doorway he would have thought he had disappeared entirely.

"Sorry again," Nick's disembodied voice said. The tray began to move towards them, bouncing slighlty in the air, and dropped it onto the closest bed - Andy's - and Nick's voice added, "I'll just leave this here and um... Go. So, Uh, bye."

Kurt watched the empty space as the door was pulled shut. He pressed his burning into he crook of Blaine's neck, only to feel him shaking with laughter underneath him.

"What?" Kurt asked, narrowing his eyes at him as he pulled back to look at him. Blaine just grinned an pecked his lips.

"Payback," he explained. "Last year I walked in on him and Katie - you know the cat girl? - and it was a little awkward for a while. He wouldn't let me live down my embarrassment for month." He sighed and his smile turned from a smirk to something gentler as he looked at Kurt. "It's going to be okay, Kurt, I promise."

He made to kiss him again but Kurt pulled back, shaking his head. "We can't right now," he told Blaine as his hands flexed. Blaine's brow furrowed but he caught sight of the movement of Kurt's hands and he seemed amuse more than anything else. He let of Kurt with a smile and turned to the tray of food, tossing an apple over his shoulder for Kurt to catch.

"You really think it'll be okay?" he asked when Blaine had sat down on his bed, turning the fruit over and over in his hands. He looked up at Kurt and then reached out to pull him down beside him.

"I promise, Kurt, I will never let anything happen to you," he hummed, letting Kurt curl against his side. Kurt took a deep breath and tried to push it from his mind. No matter what happened he would be safe here. He knew that.

Or at least he hoped that.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Ooops! Sorry about the late update! But here you go! Things have been just a little more than hectic around here than anticipated but I hope this makes up for it!**

**I should say, I only have about two or three chapters left to go in this but thank you so much to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this! I probably would have given up on it long ago it not been for the encouragement so thank you!**

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"I can't go. I'm sick."

"You are not sick, stop whining."

"I am, sick Kurt! I've got sweaty palms, an upset stomach, I'm feeling a little dizzy and I-"

"You are not sick, Blaine!"

Kurt spun around to look at him, hands on his hips and lips pursed. Blaine stood in the hallway with his shoulders hunched in on himself, hands in his pockets, and shrugged at him.

"I beg to differ," he insisted. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him and his hands shot up, palms forward in surrender. "Alright! Alright! I'm just… nervous."

He rolled his eyes at Blaine but didn't fight the smile that overtook him as he pulled Blaine into his chest. "Aww, my poor baby is nervous," he cooed with a chuckle. Blaine gave a noise of annoyance, ducking his head and burying his face in Kurt's shirt.

"Shut up," he said into the fabric and Kurt could hear the smile in his muffled voice. "This was a bad idea."

"No, it wasn't. You will be fine," Kurt hummed, petting his hair. Blaine tightened his arms around him and let out a sigh. "We're going to be late, Dad won't be happy."

"Right, okay, I can... I can do this," he mumbled, pulling back but keeping his eyes down. Kurt took his cheeks in his hands, turning Blaine's face upwards. He gave Kurt a weak smile, a twitch of his lips, but his heart really wasn't in it.

"I have complete faith in you," Kurt told him, nudging Blaine's nose with his own. "My father will see that you, Blaine Anderson, are like no other. Forgive me for using your own words against you -" he gave Blaine a wry smile "- but you are perfect."

Blaine smiled, a wide, bright and toothy smile. He pressed his lips to Kurt's, taking hold of his wrists and holding his hands in place. Kurt grinned and let his mouth melt against Blaine's, humming as Blaine coaxed his lips to part and licked the back of Kurt's teeth.

A throat cleared behind them. Kurt spun, cheeks flaming, but Blaine didn't let him move far away, dropping his hands to his waist.

"Professor Xavier," Kurt said and cursed himself for sounding so out of breath. The professor gave them a knowing smile but kindly ignored the elephant in the room.

"Kurt, I believe he is ready," Xavier informed the pair. Kurt nodded at him, not trusting himself to speak. He grabbed Blaine's hand and tugged him past the wheelchair. He hid his burning face as he passed, feeling the professor's eyes on them. Reality set in more with every step as he felt his own nerves begin to blossom in his now quivering stomach.

It was a familiar route that led to the tall, wooden door and Kurt felt an unusual wave wash over him. A sense of calm seemed to wrap itself around his body, though he could still feel the butterflies in his stomach. It was almost like an invisibility cloak, hiding away what was hidden underneath.

"Shit. Okay, I can meet your father. There is no reason for me not to be able to meet your father. He is, after all, your father. Your father who I'm going to be able to meet. Right now... Shit."

Despite his own nerves, Kurt let out a breathy chuckle and turned to stand directly in front of Blaine. In a gentle voice he said, "Relax, this is all going to be fine," though he wasn't entirely confident in that statement. Blaine took a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm himself and nodding. Kurt bit his lip and glanced quickly at the closed door. "Wait here for a minute, okay? I just... Need to give him a little warning."

Blaine's eyes snapped open and all the colour drained from his face. His mouth opened and closed around unspoken words and Kurt knew he had lost all control of his vocal chords.

"He doesn't _know_!" he demanded in a squeaky voice and Kurt gripped his upper arms to keep him from running away.

"It's not something you can just _say_ over the phone, Blaine," Kurt hissed at him a little frantically. "_'Hey Dad! Today in school some kid sneezed and snakes shot out of his nose, and then my chemistry teacher blew up my experiment with his laser eyes. Oh! By the way, I have a boyfriend!'_"

"Okay, I think Damien's snake friends are way worse than you having boyfriend."

"You don't know my dad," Kurt muttered. He only realised what he said when saw Blaine's eyes widen and raced to correct himself. "Not that he's going to be mad! He's just... A little protective."

"Please tell me he doesn't have a gun."

"No, Blaine, for God's sake! My father does not have a gun! He's a mechanic not an assassin!" Kurt took a deep breath and glanced at the door. "Look, just, wait here? _Please_ don't freak out and run away?"

Blaine nodded solemnly and leaned against the wall beside the door. Kurt pecked him on the cheek and disappeared inside the door.

The room inside wasn't unlike the rest of the mansion, all dark woods and plush couches covered in rich emerald fabrics and there was even a chaise lounge in one corner. But they held no interest for Kurt, all his attention was drawn to the centre of the room where his father stood, one hand in his pocket and a beaming smile already there for his son.

"Hey, kid," he grinned as Kurt rushed forward to hug him. It felt so much like home being again when he was wrapped in his dad's arms, like no time had passed at all since he had left Lima. He gripped tight to his father's shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of the garage and Burt.

"Hi, dad," he hummed, slowly letting go and actually looking at his dad. He still wore the same plaid shirt he always did though this one was free of grease and covered with a sports jacket, (that didn't really go with the shirt but Kurt loved his dad for trying). It was his third time visiting since Kurt had arrived at the school but to Kurt it felt like it had been years. He missed his dad more than he liked to admit, even to himself, sometimes.

Burt nudged him over to one of the couches and sat him down, his smile never leaving his face. He clapped his hand to Kurt's shoulder and gave him a light shake.

"It's good to see you, buddy!" Burt said and Kurt gave him a smile. Or at least, he tried to with his nerves still rattling around inside him. His father's forehead immediately creased and he leaned in closer to his son. "What is it? What's wrong? Are the kids not nice?"

"No, dad, it's not-"

"Just because they're mutants too doesn't mean they have a right to bully you, Kurt."

"I'm not getting bullied, Dad."

"Do you need me to talk to that professor guy again? Because I will not stand for my-"

"_Dad!_"

Burt froze halfway from the couch to a standing position. Kurt glared up at his dad until he relented and sat back down.

"I'm sorry, kid, I just worry about you," he admitted with a hardly there shrug. Kurt's expression softened.

"I know you do, and thank you," Kurt said, hugging him again. "But that's not what I needed to tell you."

"Oh...?" Burt said with raised eyebrows as he pulled back from Kurt. Kurt bit his lip and glanced quickly to the door.

"There's someone I want you to meet," he said in a quiet voice. His father looked like Kurt had dressed up in a clown suit and started dancing around the room and he was trying to understand why. "Remember, um, Blaine? That boy I told you about?"

"Yeah?" his father said, drawing out the word. "He's the guy you met on the first day, right? The one you're always talking about. The gay one?"

"Right, well, um, he's here. He wants to meet you," Kurt told him, feeling his cheeks turn a little pink at his father's words. Burt just stared at him. "I'll just... I'll just go get him."

Kurt jumped up on shaky legs and raced to the door, ignoring the wary look on his father's face. He pulled the door open and stepped into the unusually cool hallway. He felt himself visibly relax when he saw Blaine, eyes closed and brow furrowed slightly, leaning against the wall beside the door. He hadn't heard Kurt come out so Kurt allowed himself a brief moment to admire him.

"Blaine?" he said softly, reaching out and touching his shoulder. The other boy started but didn't move from his spot and when he looked at Kurt he smiled nervously. "You ready to come in?"

"Yeah, just a sec," Blaine said with a nod and directed his palms down to his feet. Kurt looked at his feet and blanched.

"Um... Blaine?" Kurt said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice as he stared down at the mound of ice covering Blaine's ankles and sloped down to the ground like an oversized slipper. So that was why the hallway was so cold. Blaine glanced up at Kurt to see his smirk.

"You asked me not to run away so I was just making sure I didn't," Blaine told him as the ice began to melt from his feet.

"So you iced your feet to the floor?" Kurt giggled before kissing Blaine's pinking cheeks. Blaine rolled his eyes and Kurt gave another chuckle. "Come on."

His father was looking out the window when they came in, tapping a rhythm on his thighs. He turned with a stern look on his face and Kurt nudged his boyfriend closer.

"Mr Hummel, sir," Blaine said, offering out his hand.

"So you're Blaine," Burt said before Blaine had a chance to introduce himself, taking his hand cautiously. Kurt saw Blaine's jaw clench and he wondered how hard his father was squeezing Blaine's hand.

"Yes, sir," Blaine said, trying his best to stand tall. Burt released his hand and moved it to scratch his chin.

"And you're-"

"-a mutant? Yes, sir."

Burt chuckled "Actually, I was going to ask if you were gay but that's good to know too." Kurt had to stop himself falling face first into the chaise lounge and groaning out loud.

"Oh, uh, yes sir, I'm gay." Blaine was doing his best to hold Burt's gaze and Kurt felt his pride for his boyfriend swell a little at Blaine's bravery. Burt could be very intimidating when he wanted to be and right now he wasn't exactly screaming _Let's be friends!_ Despite how amazing Blaine was being with his dad, Kurt didn't think he could last much longer under his father's stare. Burt may not have been a mutant but his eyes could certainly _feel_ like they had x-ray vision. He took a step forward so he was standing right next to Blaine.

"Dad, Blaine and I..." Kurt began, trailing off when his father's eyes landed on him. He swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. "Well, we're sort of... Um..."

"Spit it out, kid."

"We're dating," Kurt told him, although it came out far more like a question than he had planned and he hoped his father didn't notice. He did.

"You don't sound too sure," Burt said, his eyes studying him.

"No, no, I'm sure!" he rushed to say. He glanced quickly at Blaine and saw so much warmth there underneath the nerves and fear. He was there, beside Kurt, and his expression was a promise that no matter how scary things got, he wouldn't leave Kurt's side. He felt a swell of emotion for Blaine and reached out to take his hand as he turned back to his father. "We're dating... Yes, we're dating."

"Okay, that's good that you feel you could tell me," his father said before giving a little shrug and adding, "but I should probably tell you that I already know."

Kurt's mouth dropped. "You... You do? How?"

"Come on, Kurt," he said with a chuckle. "You talk about him enough-" Kurt fought to hide his blush "-If you weren't going out with him already I would have to have a very long talk with both of you. I'm glad it didn't have to come to that."

"So... You're okay with this?" Kurt asked hopefully. His dad gave him a warm smile that had all the tension leaking out of his body.

"Of course I'm okay with it, Kurt," Burt said, reaching out to grip his shoulder. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am," he admitted, looking at Blaine who had that soft smile again. "I am happy."

"Well good. That just leaves one thing," his father said, his voice becoming a little harder. He turned away from Kurt. "Blaine?"

"Y-yes, sir?" Blaine stuttered, jumping to attention like a soldier with his back stiff as a board.

"My boy is very important to me," Burt told him and the urge to hide in the cushions returned. "I want you to know that should any unhappiness befall him because of you, I will make your life a living hell."

Kurt could see all the colour had gone from Blaine's face and he said, "That's very terrifying sir-"

"Thank you."

"-and I want you to know that I will do my best to ensure that never happens. And, if it should happen that we go our separate ways - which I hope it doesn't - I can pretty much guarantee that I will be in a very much worse state than Kurt."

"That's comforting to know." Burt stared at him for another minute before cracking a small smile. "It's nice to finally meet you, Blaine. I wasn't kidding when I said Kurt talked about you all the time."

This time Kurt did groan. "_Daaad!_" he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. Blaine chuckled beside him, slipping an arm around his waist and tugging him closer.

"Really, Mr Hummel?" Blaine hummed and Kurt could hear the smirk. "What did he say?"

"What didn't he say?" Burt teased and Kurt buried himself into the fabric of Blaine's t-shirt. He could feel Blaine shaking with laughter underneath him.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," he mumbled into Blaine's shoulder and Blaine gave his waist a little squeeze.

Visits from his dad usually left Kurt on a high for a few days. It wore off before the week was out and after that it was just phone calls and the occasional care package that came in the mail but this week was different. Every time he smiled his hand received a squeeze and he looked over to see Blaine sharing the exact same smile and for some reason that just made everything so much better. He knew his dad would like Blaine. Sure, his father was protective but once he saw how much Blaine meant to Kurt and how much he made him smile he knew Burt would come around pretty quickly.

And last Sunday had been a perfect day. They had spent all afternoon with Kurt's father and he and Blaine got along better than Kurt would have hoped for. It made him happy to know that the two most important people in his life were getting along so well with each other.

When it had been time to say goodbye, Blaine very politely offered his hand for Burt to shake which he did and Kurt was pleased to note that he was no longer trying to break Blaine's fingers with his grip. Kurt whispered a heartfelt _thank you_ in his ear as he hugged him goodbye before they waved him off.

Kurt was surprised at how elated Blaine was after the meeting. But then again, he supposed, no adult figure apart from Cooper had really accepted him before he came here and none of them called him 'sport' or offered to take him to a football game. So Blaine's prolonged smile only did the same to Kurt's until he had been wearing his for almost two weeks.

So when Wednesday came along and they all woke up to dark grey skies that made them wonder if the morning light can really be called light if it's so dull, Kurt didn't mind. When it was already raining heavily before they make it down for breakfast, Kurt didn't mind. He didn't mind when it was still raining at the start of their first class, or the second class, or their third class and neither did he mind that Blaine wasn't in any of these classes with him.

What he did mind was when he arrived to his English class just as Storm was instructing them all to take out their work assignments to find his seat beside Blaine taken by some brown haired newbie. It had shocked him so much that he had stopped completely in the door way, blocking the flow of students entering the classroom. Someone nudged him in the back with abnormally sharp nails – or claws? – and forced him back into movement. He looked over his shoulder to see Katie giving him a worried look.

"Can I sit in your seat today?" he whispered to her, nodding to his occupied seat. She looked as confused about the newcomer as he was but agreed anyway, veering off to at the back. He slid into the chair beside Blaine, giving him a pointed look.

"Don't freak out," Blaine warned quietly with a look that very clearly said he knew Kurt would probably freak out regardless. Kurt was about to question him when the new kid spoke.

"Well, well, well, who's this, Blaine?" a smooth and obnoxiously cocky voice said and Blaine grimaced slightly when he looked at Kurt. He gave Kurt a weak shrug before leaning back slightly to reveal the owner of the voice.

Kurt felt his blood run cold, as though Blaine had just covered him from head to toe entirely in ice. His shirt was suddenly too tight and his mouth had gone dry and all he could do was open and close his mouth stupidly like a goldfish. His good mood had vanished quicker than being struck by lightning.

Because there, two seats over and sitting right next to Blaine, was Sebastian Smythe.

"Sebastian this is Kurt Hummel, Kurt this is Sebastian Smythe," Blaine said in a measured voice. He shot a look at Kurt and instantly Kurt's mouth snapped shut. Blaine's look said it all. Kurt didn't know him, wasn't supposed to know him, and he certainly couldn't act like he didn't like him or was suspicious of him. So Kurt simply smiled and offered out a hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Sebastian," he said in a falsely sweet voice and he knew the smile the senator's son returned him wasn't genuine either. Thankfully, Storm called the class to attention and began discussing Shakespeare.

Kurt sat ridged the entire class, Hamlet's entire plot of revenge lost on him. Ever since their trip into the city Kurt had still felt uneasy despite Blaine's reassurances that it was just his imagination. Kurt had spent whatever free time he had trying to find out about the Smythe family, which was hard without Blaine finding out. Blaine wasn't comfortable with it. He was convinced it was out of their hands and nothing to worry about, but Kurt knew he was wrong, a gut feeling told him. So he kept it quiet. But now Sebastian was here, in the school. Kurt felt like he was going to be sick.

Class ended and they made their way to lunch. Kurt was silent as they walked, ignoring Blaine's attempt to pull him into the conversation. Blaine didn't seem too put off, he knew that this was setting Kurt on edge. More than anything else he appeared worried about Kurt. Kurt didn't like the hungry and predatory look on Sebastian's face as Blaine talked so he very pointedly took Blaine's hand and raised it to kiss his knuckles, looking absently ahead as though he wasn't doing it on purpose. Blaine was so engrossed in the conversation he barely noticed the unusual gesture.

As they ate, Kurt listened in silence as he picked at his food. He studied Sebastian's every move and when Wes asked if he was indeed the senator's son he saw the very faint, very quick ripple of pride across his features before he waved it off with a simple "Yeah, I guess" before he dropped his gaze to his hands. He looked so dejected and torn that Kurt almost believed him when he said his father kicked him out when he discovered the truth.

Almost.

He began to dislike Sebastian more and more as the days went by. Blaine was oblivious to his rude and snarky comments. Blaine only became more and more sure that Sebastian was telling the truth. He even snapped at Kurt when he had tried to voice his concerns. It hurt Kurt more than he let on, to see his boyfriend prefer to spend more of his time with a smarmy, lying person with a meerkat face than him.

"What is it?" Blaine asked Kurt one evening just before curfew. They had only just come in a few minutes earlier having been off in the library with Sebastian all evening. That was another thing he hated, how much time Sebastian took out of their relationship.

"It's nothing," he lied, dropping his bag on the bed and going to grab his pyjamas. Why did Sebastian have to come here? Things had been perfect and Kurt was happy despite how much he missed his dad but the last few weeks with Sebastian around was messing everything up.

"Kurt, please tell me, you've been so quiet recently," Blaine pleaded. Kurt wanted to be mad at the genuine worry he heard in Blaine's voice but it only made him want to curl himself around Blaine instead. He wanted Blaine to hold him and tell him everything would be alright.

"I don't like him."

It was a second before Kurt realised it was him who had spoken. He hoped it was quiet enough that Blaine wouldn't hear but he also hoped that he would. He wanted so badly to tell him, to spill out all his worries and have Blaine help mop them up so he spoke again. "I don't like Sebastian."

"Kurt, how could you say that?" He turned to face Blaine and was shocked to see he looked disappointed.

"No, don't give me that, Blaine," Kurt said, suddenly a little angry. "He's ignorant and makes snide comments and he has no consideration for anyone!"

"That's not fair, Kurt," he began but Kurt cut him off.

"No, it is fair, Blaine. Everything he does is always to benefit himself. He's cold hearted and degrading and selfish! And sometimes I feel like you would prefer to be hanging out with him rather than me!"

"Kurt, are you… are you _jealous_ of Sebastian?" Blaine said incredulously and god maybe Kurt was a little jealous but that didn't account for the horrible prickle of unease he felt whenever Sebastian was around. "God, Kurt, I can't believe you would be so shallow!"

"Shallow!" Kurt stared at him. He couldn't believe Blaine wasn't seeing this, that he was blind to the truth about Sebastian. His hands clenched and unclenched, trying to dull the pins and needles he felt in his palms. "Blaine, you can't honestly believe that he's the victim in all of this! Do you really believe that stupid story of how his father used him after he came out to swing the gay vote only to disown him when he found out he was a mutant?"

"Yes, Kurt, I do," Blaine spat back. His own anger was growing and he was full on glaring at Kurt. "We can't all have perfect, understanding fathers. Some of us aren't that lucky! So excuse me for wanting to have a friend who's gone through some of the same shit that I have."

"So what? I'm not good enough anymore? Sorry I haven't had a shit enough life for you!"

Blaine gave him a look of pure disgust and spun. He grabbed his bag from the ground beside his bed with an unnecessary amount of force and stormed towards the door.

"Where are you going, Blaine? It's almost curfew," Kurt asked, sounding fed up and annoyed and as if he was talking to an eight year old.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Blaine seethed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realise I had to have permission from you to go on a walk!" He wrenched the door open and pulled it behind him with a deafening slam.

"Fine! Go! See if I fucking care!" Kurt screamed at the door. He snatched up his pyjamas angrily, took one look them, before giving them a cry of frustration and watching them burst into flames. He watched the ashes fall to the floor but the release wasn't enough. He could still feel the tingling in his hands, threatening to take over. He tugged at the bed sheets, intending to bury himself in a cotton cocoon but before he had a chance to really think about what he was doing they were on fire too, crumbling charred and black on top of the ruined pyjamas.

He felt so tired, so drained. He collapsed on the bed, still in his clothes and buried his face in the pillow, screaming into the stuffing. He kept screaming until his voice was hoarse and his throat was sore and dissolved into silence.

Somewhere between Andy coming into the room while Kurt lay completely still and Nick following soon after, Kurt fell into a fitful sleep. He started awake more than once, gasping for breath and clutching the pillow in the darkness. He never raised his head or looked to Blaine's bed, just lay without moving until he slipped out of consciousness again.

He woke to Nick shaking him gently awake. He blinked slowly, eyes stiff and bleary and not quite yet used to the morning light. "I thought you might want to get up for breakfast," he said. He nodded at Nick, still trying to pull himself out of sleep. "Uh, Kurt, what happened?" Nick asked, toeing at the charred sheets on the ground.

"Bad night," Kurt mumbled, trying to ignore the bubble of guilt in his stomach. He chanced a look at Blaine's bed but it was empty and unslept in. He turned back to Nick, already trudging his way back to his bed to grab his stuff. "Where's Blaine?"

Nick looked to Blaine's bed and then to Kurt. "I… I thought you knew," he frowned. "He wasn't here at all last night."

Kurt swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He had the most horrible feeling that something was wrong, but no, Blaine probably just went somewhere to cool off and fell asleep. He dressed quickly, and was ready in time to leave with Nick and they made their way to breakfast. He walked into the room, expecting to see Blaine already sitting and chewing on a piece of toast but his usual seat was empty.

He didn't eat, couldn't eat and jumped up before anyone else was half way through. Kurt's palms were clammy and he felt on edge. He needed to see Blaine. Something was wrong, he knew it. He raced through the school, down hallways and peaked in rooms trying to find Blaine, becoming even more anxious with each step. He was about to go out into the gardens when voices stopped him.

They came from a room just off the main foyer with the door slightly ajar. He would have sprinted past if he hadn't heard Blaine's name.

"… sometime last night. We must try to find them as soon as possible."

"Where do you think they would have gone, Professor?" Storm's voice, sounding far more business-like than Kurt had heard before.

"It's hard to say but given Sebastian's current circumstances with his father I would like to bring them back to the mansion before either do anything irrational."

Blaine was gone. Blaine was gone with Sebastian. Blaine and Sebastian had left.

Kurt's stomach hit the floor. His legs felt like jelly and the feeling of foreboding intensified. Blaine was in danger, he knew that. He didn't know how but he did. The door swung open and Storm appeared in front of him.

"Kurt," she said, softly and unsurprised but the sound sent his mind into a downward spiral.

He turned and sprinted, down the hall, through the foyer and out into the morning air. He could hear someone calling him from behind but he ignored them.

He had to find Blaine. He needed to. Because if he didn't something terrible was going happen him. And Kurt wasn't about to let that happen.

* * *

**Ah, the return of Burt Hummel. Have I mentioned how much I love Burt Hummel? Because I do. He's like magic! And the scene where he and Blaine meet was written waaay back at the start of June when this was all being planned so it was a relief to finally use it! And at the end of the chapter plan, I literally had ****_*GASP!* Cliffhanger! _****so I hope I did that justice!**


	7. Chapter 7

**If life were a roller coaster, mine would be the insane one that only the crazy people and daredevils go on. (ie. my life is hectic) Between historical societies and work and people I some how got this done and I'm sorry for the wait but it's here. So smile, rejoice and be happy! :)**

* * *

Kurt shouldn't have been surprised that he was sitting in his room on strict orders not to leave the grounds. He had barely made it to the gates when the wind picked up, pushing him back to the mansion and the rain became so heavy that his clothes were saturated within minutes.

He sat in the empty room on his bed, staring at the poor remains of bed clothes on the floor. He probably should get up and throw them away and maybe get more from the supply closet down the hall but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he sat almost completely still as the light in the room waned to evening and didn't move, save to wipe at the tear tracks whenever fresh ones appeared. It was silent in the room. Nick had offered to stay with him but Kurt couldn't bare it. He didn't want to deal with the false calm that Nick would show so instead he was with Wes and the others.

The sickening feeling in his stomach grew with every passing second. He had demanded to the professor, Storm and the other teachers to be allowed help find Blaine but they brushed him off. It was terrifying not knowing where he was or if he was okay. He kept trying to figure out where Blaine could be but he couldn't get the image of a sleek glass skyscraper, piercing the sky, higher than any building for miles and Blaine trapped inside out of his head. He _needed_ to know he was okay.

He heard footsteps in the hallway and curled onto the bed with his back to the door. He didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone so he ignored it when he heard the click of the door handle and the creek of the hinges as it opened. There was the quiet sound of footfalls across the wooden floor followed by a few beats of silence.

"Kurt?"

Kurt had only ever heard Adam speak twice before, once in class and once in their room when Kurt had asked him his opinion on a shirt. Kurt had decided he had good fashion sense, especially when he suggested which pants Kurt should wear with the shirt he chose. Still, it was even more of a shock than he expected because he had thought Adam would still be in the library. His voice was quiet and concerned, and although Kurt didn't know him very well, he felt a surge of affection at his obvious worry.

He rolled slowly and pushed himself up the bed and into a seating position to better see Adam. Adam offered him a shy smile and Kurt pulled his legs up and hugged his knees to his chest. "Yeah, Adam?"

"I... I'm really sorry to hear about Blaine," he said quietly as he shuffled his feet. He dropped his eyes to the floor and he looked so young in that moment. He _was_ young, Kurt reminded himself, only just turned fourteen. His shaggy brown hair fell in front of grey eyes and his face still had puppy fat along his jaw. Kurt suddenly felt guilty for not making more of an effort to get to know him. "I want you to know that if there is anything you need me to do or need help with, you can just ask."

"Thanks Adam," Kurt said, unsurprised by the sheer volume of sincerity he heard in his own voice. "But I don't think that'll be necessary. Professor Xavier won't even let me help look for Blaine."

Kurt dropped his chin to his knees, staring down at the bed's under sheet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adam bite his bottom lip. "I never... I never told you what I could do, did I?" he asked tentatively. Kurt twisted his head slightly, chin still on his knees, to look at him with a furrowed brow. He gave a sheepish smile.

There was a small _pop_ and Kurt bolted upright. Suddenly, his heart was racing as he stared at the empty spot where Adam had been. Before he could register what had just happened there was another faint _pop_ and Adam was back, this time on the opposite side of Kurt's bed.

"Oh my god!" Kurt gasped, pushing away from Adam's new position in shock until he was cowering at the edge of the bed. Adam grinned. "You can... You're a-a-"

"A teleporter!" he confirmed and, if Kurt wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of smugness to his tone. There was an excited glint to his grey eyes. "I can take you to Blaine!"

Excitement rippled through Kurt at the thought that yes! He could find Blaine! But that hope was quickly squashed when reality swept over again. "I don't even know where Blaine might be..." Kurt started to say but something stopped him.

He did know where Blaine was. Or at least, he thought he knew. Every time he thought of Blaine he saw the same building in his mind, the menacing skyscraper, and that had only happened since he had discovered Blaine had left. But he didn't even know if a building like that existed.

"Adam, how well do you know New York?" Kurt asked urgently. It felt like New York. The glass building, the smaller ones surrounding it, the street... The younger boy's forehead creased.

"Pretty well, actually," Adam told him. "I grew up there, and when my parents found out I was a mutant I lived on the streets until Professor Xavier found me. I know that place better than the back of my hand."

"I think I know where Blaine might be," Kurt said and he quickly began to describe the building to Adam. He didn't know how, but the more he described it, the more sure he was that Blaine was there. _Maybe the fire isn't the only thing I can do,_ he thought.

"So, do you know if that building exists?" Kurt asked when he was finished. "If it's in New York?"

"I think I know it," Adam said thoughtfully. With a nod, he stretched out his hand to Kurt. "You want to go there?"

Kurt didn't even have to think. He reached for Adam's hand and almost instantly he felt like he was being tugged off the bed to float in thin air. There was a pressure all around him and he squeezed his eyes shut. The sensation was so strange, like something closing in on him and then suddenly it changed. What felt like thousands of tiny hooks pulled at his skin from every angle and Kurt's breathing picked up.

And then it all stopped. Kurt vaguely registered Adam squeezing his hand and he forced his own eyes open. His mouth dropped as he looked around him.

He wasn't in his room anymore, he wasn't even in the mansion! Instead, he was standing in a dim and dirty alleyway. Either side of him were two grimy, chipped brick walls and trash littered the ground around them.

"Sorry about the location," Adam said, already making his way out of the alley with Kurt on his heels. "I just didn't want us to pop out in front of a group of people."

They broke out onto the street and Kurt froze in his tracks. His mouth went dry and he could hear his heart beat in his ears. There, across the street, was the exact building he had been imagining whenever he tried to figure out where Blaine was. Gold orange light from the setting sun reflected on the glass and for a second Kurt almost thought it was on fire. He could feel his hands shaking and the world seem to stop around him. That feeling, that horrible feeling of something wrong, had intensified and it took all Kurt had to refrain from heaving until his empty stomach ached.

Someone called his name. There was a light tug at his wrist and he was so out of it that he felt himself stumble and regain his footing. Adam was still there, looking up at him with concern. Kurt glanced back at the building. He was so utterly terrified at that moment that it seemed to have taken over the blood in his veins so his heart was now just pumping pure fear around his body.

"Adam," Kurt croaked. His own voice sounded so small and scared, but no! He couldn't be scared! Not when Blaine needed him. He shook mentally shook himself and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger and clearer. "Adam, I need you to go back to the mansion. Find the professor and tell him that you know where Blaine is. Tell him he's here."

Adam nodded but looked sceptical. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go in and find Blaine," He said, ignoring the anxiety the threatened to take over at the thought. Adam's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to speak but Kurt cut him off. "I have to go. I don't know how long it's going to take for them to get here and I am _not _leaving Blaine up there on his own for however long it might take. And anyway, if I went back, they'd make me stay behind and I can't do that."

Adam bit his lip and he glanced to the building, eyes stretching up from the ground to the pointed lightning rod at the top. "Do you even know where he is in there?"

"Fifty seventh floor," Kurt said without thinking and then wondered how he knew that and how he was so sure. Adam looked back at him and his expression told Kurt he was thinking the same thing.

"Be careful, Kurt," he said with a supportive smile. Kurt swallowed down the lump in his throat.

"Thank you."

Adam nodded and turned and darted back into the alleyway from which they came. Kurt absently noted the quiet _pop _from the alley as he crossed the street.

The building was sleek and modern inside, black marble tiles and sleek white walls. On either side of the doors when Kurt walked in were sets of sofas and chairs. They were black leather, angular and stood on silver metal frames and glass topped tables sat in the middle of them. They looked hard and uncomfortable and the entire lobby screamed cold and lacking in anything friendly. There was an elevator to the left of the receptionist's desk and beside it stood a large, broad attendant with stiff expression.

Kurt lifted his head and walked with as much confidence he could muster to the desk. She didn't look up from the computer screen she was scowling at. Her chin and nose were pointed and her cheek bones stuck out. Her dark hair was pulled tightly back into an unnaturally neat bun and a set of small oval, wire framed glasses were perched on her nose. Her eyes were a steal grey and she, just like the rest of the room, seemed to be void of friendliness in her charcoal grey suit.

He had to clear his throat three times before she raised her eyes. They were narrowed and she raised a thin, dark eyebrow in question at him. He gulped audibly at the intensity of her stare but didn't back away. He couldn't even if he wanted to – his legs weren't even responding.

"M-my name is K-Kurt," he said in a quiet voice and her head snapped back to the computer screen.

"Kurtis Aberwood?" she said suddenly, nodding and clacking her fingers against the keyboard. Kurt stared at her until she looked back with boredom clear on his face. "Kurtis Aberwood?" she repeated, suddenly wary. "The new trainee intern for Senator Smythe?"

"Smythe...?" Kurt echoed and his blood froze in his veins. "Senator Smythe works_ here_?"

The woman eyed him suspiciously so Kurt schooled his facial expression. He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth and quickly plastered on a neutral but confident smile. "Yes, sorry, Kurtis Aber- Uh... Aber... Yeah, well, not important, that's me!"

Still regarding him sceptically, she gave a few more clacks at the key board before sliding a laminated identification badge which he pinned to his cardigan with only slightly shaking hands. "Okay, Mr Aberwood, take the elevator on your left up to the fifty seventh floor."

"Fifty seven?" he said with wide eyes, though he was hardly surprised after he learned Sebastian's father worked in the building. The woman clearly wasn't happy with him. Her mouth was set into a thin, hard line. Kurt turned on his heel and practically sprinted over to the elevator.

The elevator attendant looked even bigger up close. He pinged open the door and, to Kurt's surprise, slid into the tiny metal box after him. He looked expectantly at Kurt until he rattled off the floor number but never spoke, leaving Kurt to study himself in the mirrored walls.

He was glad he had planned his outfit last weekend and didn't have to worry about dressing himself this morning. Worry and fashion do not mix well, Kurt knew. The slim fit, grey shirt with a navy strip along the buttons and at the edge of the collar, thick, loose wool, navy cardigan and dark jeans may not have been appropriate for an intern but it was respectable. Maybe even smart.

He caught the eye of the elevator attendant scrutinising him with a look that didn't appear to be trusting. Wrapping his arms around his own middle, Kurt quickly looked away from the uneasy stare. What would they do when the real Kurtis Aberwhatever showed up? Would they turn him away? Or would they come and find Kurt? Throw him out, or worse, call the cops? His father would be so disappointed in him and Kurt briefly wondered what Blaine would think.

Blaine. That was why he was here. It didn't matter if he was found out so long as he rescued Blaine. So he gritted his teeth and straightened his back and strode out of the elevator with his head held high when it reached his floor.

There was a woman with an arm full of Manila folders waiting to greet him. She wasn't as cold as the receptionist had been but she didn't scream _be my friend!_ either. She looked him up and down and her forehead creased a little.

"Kurtis Aberforth?" she asked and Kurt nodded a little frantically. "Alright, come with me."

He followed her down a sleek and modern hallway that was only a smidgen warmer than the lobby and that was only because of the orange and reds in the art on the walls. She was chattering away and Kurt had to force himself to listen, his mind was spinning at the thought that Blaine was here, somewhere on the fifty-seventh floor.

"So things are a little hectic here lately. The Senator's new campaign has gone off with a bang and it's not entirely a good bang all round so everything's all over the place. And there was some personal drama with his son too and he hasn't really been himself all day so just beware. I'm Helen, by the way, first assistant, so if you have any questions come straight to me."

She brought them into a room that clearly was the outer office. Directly across from where they came were a large set of doors open into what was the Senator's office. Two particians set desks off on either side of the room. Helen nodded to one.

"That'll be your desk," she explained and then pointed to a stack of folders. "If you can organise those into that cabinet that would be great, I just have to sort some things out in Mr Smythe's office."

Kurt nodded and she disappeared through the doors. It was simple putting away the folders, it was just alphabetical but just as he finished he heard the phone ring in the Senator's office. Helen picked up and Kurt immediately knew that something was wrong.

"Yes, Kurtis has just arrived… what do you mean… are you sure it's him?... I thought he seemed a little young… yes, send Jonathon up."

Kurt dashed under the desk, pulling the chair in tight. It was a silly hiding place but he was desperate. They knew and he didn't have much of a chance for anything better. He heard Helen's heals on the floor, slow and measured as she made her way into the outer office.

"Kurtis?" she asked. Her voice was dripping with mock friendliness and there was a slight nervous quiver. Kurt's heart was beating frantically in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. After a pause, Helen voice came again and she hissed, "_Shit._"

Kurt heard her walk out of the room at top speed and he waited a moment before climbing up from his hiding place. He was so glad it worked but he needed to move fast. Whoever this Jonathon person was, Kurt didn't think he'd be very friendly. He looked both ways when he got to the door, immediately knowing which he would take – one led back to the elevator (and inevitably Jonathon) and the other led to Blaine.

He didn't know where he was going as he winded his way through a maze of corridors and hallways. He knew the building was big but he was lost in the labyrinth in minutes, with only the strange force inside him to point him in a direction. He raced past a large metal door but stopped abruptly. This was it. This was where he needed to go.

There was a panel on the wall beside the door and Kurt knew it required a hand print to open it. He pressed his ear against the metal but he wasn't sure if it was quiet because there was no one there or because the door was too thick. Making a decision, he placed his hand on the panel, ignoring the 'Access Denied' that flashed on the little screen as his hand began to heat up rapidly.

His hand sunk through the panel and with a twist of his wrist, the door slid open with three short consecutive beeps. Kurt removed his hand, shaking it a little to cool it quickly. He slunk into another hallway but this one was darker. There was no fancy tile or art work here, just concrete walls that seemed to press in on Kurt. He speedily made his way down until he broke into a room that was startlingly bright in contrast with the dim hallway. The room was virtually empty apart from an examination table in the centre and a plush, high backed arm chair in the corner beside a wooden door on the other side of the room. At first, Kurt thought it was art work on the walls but after a moment in the room he realised it wasn't art, but iron bars set into the walls. They were oddly primitive against the modern building and he almost laughed until he saw what he was sure would make him sick – a figure, curled in on themselves in the corner of one of the cells.

"Blaine!"

Kurt sprinted over to the bars that separated them, falling to his knees when he reached them and knocking them painfully against the iron. Blaine jumped, tucking his body in closer to himself as his head snapped up. There was no expression on his face until he focused on who it was. His eyes widened when he saw Kurt and his mouth opened just a little in surprise.

"Kurt," he said, and his voice was cracked and broken. He quickly crawled over to the bars, staring at Kurt with a look that set him on edge. It wasn't happy or relieved but… disgusted? "Kurt, what are you _doing_ here?!"

"Blaine, I'm here to help you," Kurt said, sounding as upset as he felt. Blaine was shaking his head before he had even finished, looking down at his knees.

"No, Kurt, you have to go right now," Blaine insisted and there was a terrifying desperation in his voice. It made Kurt's chest ache at the thought that Blaine didn't want him here, not even to help. But then Blaine looked up and Kurt realised it wasn't that he didn't want Kurt there; it was that he wanted Kurt out. He was terrified but it wasn't for himself, it was for Kurt. "_Please_, Kurt, you have to go-"

"No, Blaine, not without you," Kurt said. Blaine looked tore between being frustrated and flattered.

"Yes, Blaine, really," a voice came from behind Kurt. He twisted on the ground to see Sebastian, grinning down at them. "How rude. Kurt has only just got here, it would be impolite to have him leave so soon."

"Kurt, _go_," Blaine hissed in his ear but Kurt shook his head. Sebastian was watching them and his expression turned from amused to irritated. He heard Blaine say in name again but he refused to leave him and this only annoyed Sebastian more.

"I never told you what I could do, did I, Kurt?" Sebastian said in a voice that appeared light but Kurt could hear the hardness there. He stepped towards Kurt slowly, keeping his eyes on him. "It's quite unique, and very useful, but it's so hard to explain. It would be much easier to show you what I can do."

He stopped right in front of Kurt and merely looked at him, keeping unnaturally still. Blaine was whimpering behind him, pulling at his sleeve through the bars but Kurt kept his eyes on Sebastian's. Then, quick as lightning, Sebastian ducked and pressed two fingers to the side of Kurt's temple.

Kurt's head felt like it was about to explode. There was an extreme pressure all over his head, under his skull and pushing to get out and squishing to get in. He let out a cry and tried to raise his hands to his head in an attempt to dull the pain but there were piercing pains in every limb, making them heavy. He could hear Blaine's voice in his ear, shouting out at Sebastian and Kurt gritted his teeth, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction than he already had.

The pain stopped suddenly, leaving Kurt numb and drained. He panted as he grabbed the bars and hoisted himself up from where he had slid down until he was almost lying on the ground. He glared up at Sebastian who was merely smirking down at him.

"It's fantastic, isn't it," Sebastian gloated, bending down to look directly into Kurt's eyes. They were deep amber looking at Kurt, looking so like fire that for a second Kurt almost thought he could control them. Sebastian reached out and took hold of Kurt's cheek, causing the pain to flow again. It was so much more intense this time and in seconds he was giving in and screaming out until he was a puddle on the floor. Sebastian chuckled. "You see, Kurt, I am so much strong than you. That is why my father is rewarding me. Why do you think he's locating everyone to the Mutant's Village? To gather them all together in a place where they can be themselves entirely. And who do you think he plans to elect to lead them?" He leaned forward to whisper right into Kurt's ear. "And when I'm away on leadership business, there may just happen to be an accident, and I'll be the only worthy mutant left. That'll make me the most powerful person in the country."

Fear was beginning to creep into Kurt's body. He wanted to move away from Sebastian but his bones were like liquid and wouldn't respond the way he wanted them too. Sebastian laughed darkly in his ear as he drew away, drawing his finger along Kurt's cheek bone as he moved and leaving Kurt writhing with his eyes clenched closed. Blaine was pulling at Kurt's shoulder, whispering his name but there was nothing substantial he could do from behind the bars. There was the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer and Kurt tried to haul his eyelids up.

"Jonathon, take Mr Hummel here and lock him away," Sebastian said from somewhere above him and Kurt opened his eyes enough to see the elevator attendant bend down to grab onto his wrist. He dragged Kurt unceremoniously across the floor into the nearest free cell, the ghost of Sebastian's power still fresh under his skin.

He heard the metal door slam and more footsteps recede away until the entire room was quiet apart from the insanely loud thump of his heart and the ringing in his ears. Something shuffled nearby and he reached out until his hand connected with cold iron and a second later a shocking degree of warmth covered his fingers. He gave Blaine's hand a squeeze and felt Blaine squeeze back. Blaine had known what Sebastian could do and wanted Kurt gone before it had happened to him. It made Kurt's stomach twist to think that it must have happened to him

"How touching," Sebastian said a little bitterly, already walking away. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go tell my father we have a new test subject to play with."

* * *

**And I bet you all thought Adam was just a character filler! Shame on you! (Unless you didn't, in which case, you get cookies)**

**So here you go! Hope you enjoyed some suspense (if I managed to create it?) and please maybe leave a review? We're almost to the end so it would be like a premature parting gift? No? Okay then.**


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